Carter The Adventure Begins
by xlilxfrazzlesx
Summary: Carla and Peter have left Weatherfield, In this story we can see what the get up to. But will it be the adventure Peter had hoped or is this going to be one big mistake! written from Carla's point of view
1. Chapter 1

I awake to gaze up and see my Peter, my baby and he's distant. He was so quiet as the train left Manchester Victoria. He's gazing out of the window of the train and I can see the tearstains on his cheeks. I squirm beside him and he suddenly snaps from his daydream. He musters up the best smile he can manage; I smile back, my poor baby. Peter wraps his arm round me and I feel so safe, I think back the last time I felt this safe in a mans arms were Liam's. Liam. God that was so long ago now and I miss him so much, even though I love peter, and I really do with all my heart, Liam will always be 'the one'. My eyes close as I think back on my hectic life, its been such a drama since I moved to Weatherfield only six years ago!

"Carla" I hear Peter's voice and he shakes me gently.

I gaze up once more and see his dark eyes shining into mine, He's still upset the whole Simon/Leanne/Nick happy family thing is destroying him.

"We here?" I ask him gently, he nods and I gaze out the train window as the train rolls into the station to a gentle stop. I wobble as I stand from my seat and Peter grabs my arm to help steady me. He grabs the bags before I have chance and gestures for me to get off. I walk ahead of him turning and giving him a reassuring smile before I get off and step onto the platform. He doesn't even smile back. I find my self cursing Leanne silently for turning up and ruining the whole plan but in all honestly it was a very stupid idea.

We walk beside each other in silence as we head down the platform towards our next train, Southampton headed and it's late, very late and I'm shattered its been the longest day. Peter eventually offers out his spare hand as we wait on platform 4 at Kings Cross. Its so busy late at night and I just want to sleep. It's as though he can sense my anxiety he squeezes my hand. "I Love you Carla" he says, but he doesn't look at me. Tears well in my eyes, his words are empty.

The train screeches into the platform pulling up right beside us. Peter lets go of my hand and places it on my back gesturing for me to step aboard. I take my seat, this time by the window; Peter stores our bags and slides beside me. I smile at him again, again no smile I pout and face out the window. I can just imagine the street now, Leanne home gloating how Simon chose her and bleating on about how glad she is Peter and I have finally left. She's probably hoping we won't ever return.

I turn and Peter is staring at me, still blank. "Peter, baby, what's up? You've been so distant" I ask, my voice a little choked. "Yes Carla, I'm fine, I just want to get to Southampton and get on that boat" he replies.

"ok, baby" I reply trying not to cry. I hope he isn't going to be like this for long, this is where it all started going wrong before. I gaze as the blackness descends as we quicken the pace and the odd light flashes passed the train window. Peter is blissfully asleep but I just can't. I'm wondering if I made a mistake and I think back to how I was with the people who care about me, Rob, Michelle and now I've left them to take care of my responsibilities. A smile creeps across my face as I think about the worst that could happen with Rob acting like he owns the place, but Michelle is there and she will keep him in check. I giggle loudly at the thought of her scolding him, it disturbs Peter and he snorts as wakes up and I smile at him a full on Cheshire grin developing.

"What?" he grumbles looking at me all puzzled. I haven't gigled like this since I was young, in fact probably since before I met Pauly Walnut. I grasp my hand with my mouth to stop the giggling starting again.

"Nothing Baby" I eventually reply as the grin leaves my face but the smile can't help but remain. Peter grins excitedly at me.

"What are we going to do now? Big adventure an' all" I ask him teasingly.

"We're getting that boat, if we don't I'll go back and you said going back wouldn't help" he blurts out suddenly.

I smile at him, its all I can do, I know I'm right, if we go back Leanne and Peter will just fight further over poor Simon.

Morning has come and the train pulls in at Southampton station. It must be early morning just after dawn the sky looks beautiful and the sun blinds me. So this is what is happening, this is really going to happen, Peter and I are just going to get on this boat and all will be fine. Peter is once again ready, bags in hand and I think he is really going to enjoy his time away from Weatherfield despite Simon's absence but am I?.

Peter pulls out his phone and I watch him from the queue at the deli where I am queuing as I am in desperate need of my morning coffee. My phone suddenly rings making me jump. I fumble in my handbag and pull out the handset. Glaring down at the screen Michelle's name flashes in time with the rings. Bit early but I answer it after a moment's hesitation. "hi" I answer knowing I'm in big trouble, I can just sense it. I turn and see Peter staring at his feet beginning to pace and his finger in his other ear so he can hear his call. Michelle has begun wittering on in my ear but I've not heard a word. "Carla!" she suddenly screams and I snap back to my own call.

"Ma'am" the attendant calls me and I realise I'm at the front of the queue; I shake my head and move to one side. "Carla!" Michelle shrieks once more and I can feel her scowling down the phone. I gulp "what?" I ask innocently.

"Carla, have you even listen to a word I've said? Where the hell are you and Peter?"

I gulp again; she's going to kill me. "Southampton" I answer, the words escaping my mouth at super speed.

"Southamp….. Carla! I told you what a stupid idea, Leanne is so going to be after you two" she now sounds a little more concerned. She's not heard, or better still not seen.

"We don't have Simon" I blurt out further. Looking round I can no longer see Peter, great just what I need. Michelle has gone silent in my ear. I can feel my breathing become more intense and laced with panic. Peter, where has he gone? I quickly pace forward forgetting I still have Michelle on the line.

She begins mumbling away in my hear and she sounds confused but I don't have time for this right now. Before I can stop myself I call out "Peter!" several bystanders stop and stare it me like I'm crazy. I want to tell them I'm not but it would make me seem crazy. I hear a beep at my ear and my phone dies, great.

So now I, me the headstrong Mrs Connor is alone in Southampton, my gorgeous Peter Barlow missing. God he was only on the phone where the hell did he go. The station has suddenly got busy, I'm dehydrated and I feel fuzzy. Oh god Peter why have you done this to me! I had my business back up and running and my life sort of back on track minus all the 'Barlow family drama' and you decide to run away. I'm overwhelmed. The room begins to spin and it's all so Hollywood.


	2. Chapter 2

I awake, my eyes blinking rapidly as I come round, I am held in the arms of a man, looking up I hope that it is Peter. I smile up at him lovingly; my eyes hazy, "Peter?" I ask groggily. He holds tightens his grip on my arms, but does not answer me, he's crouched beside me on the station marble floor. As my eyes re-adjust and brighten I see that it is in fact Peter. He helps me stumble to my feet, he's holding my arms as I stand in front of him and get my bearings. My mood changes quickly and I'm snapped back to the reality that was and frown.

"Where the hell where you?" I scream at him suddenly.

He lets go and slowly backs away from me, looking down he furrows his brow.

"Carla, I urm…. I was on the phone, I only moved just outside the door, I couldn't hear" he answers almost defending himself. I calm, and take a deep breath; I sigh and move closer toward him.

"Sorry Baby I was just scared, one minute I could see you and the next you were gone…I panicked" Tears prick in the corners of my eyes as Peter grabs me and embraces me in a cuddle. He strokes my hair and takes a deep breath.

"Come" he says and takes my hand, we walk together out of the station and he heads for the docks.

The air is crisp and fresh, it's turned to a dull morning and the sky is looking very murky. Peter seems so confident; it's a big change from the mess of a man I was dealing with just last week! So Many boats are floating in the harbour and it's a wonderful sight. I look past Peter and wonder which one his 'friend' owns.

"Which one is ours?" I ask as Peter stops and looks out over the railings

"No idea" he replies with a grin.

I hate that he's not prepared, who comes all the way to Southampton without knowing all the details? This is typical Peter. He lets go of my hand and pulls out his mobile, walking out of earshot he paces as the phone rings. He glances nervously up and smiles at me, I smile back trying to reassure him that I'm happy with this but I'm still not sure I like this idea it's certainly not one of Peter's brightest.

Before I know it Peter is back by my side, He grabs a cigarette and shelters it from the gentle breeze, lighting it he takes a deep, long drag. He squints as he takes another and leans against the rail. I just stand there I feel so tired still and am desperately hoping I can get some sleep soon.

"Look at that baby" he mumbles after a while stubbing out his cigarette and dropping the butt into the sea below.

I gaze out at the open seas beyond the field of Yachts and Boats. It looks still and calm unlike the skies brewing above us.

"There's our adventure" he continues positively but I can see that being away from Simon is still killing him inside.

"Great baby" I reply trying not to sound disappointed, silly but I'd rather be sat in the comfort of my factory in Wetherfield.

Peter looks so hopeful for our future, again a big change since he was telling me last week that I was the reason his happy life fell apart. He's so bipolar sometimes!

Peter answers his phone suddenly, I didn't even here it ring. "Yep…Ok…Yes….. Mate…. We're on our way" He continues. Clicking the phone off he looks at me, "Here we go" he grabs my hand once again and walks me round to a big iron gate. We wait as a man runs from a sailboat round the moorings and up the ramp to us at the gate. He's in sunglasses and a leather jacket, looks like a heavy to me. "Barlow?" he yells just a short way from the gate. Peter nods and looks round nervously as though he thinks some ones watching us. I instinctively copy before we both turn back to the man. He has moved closer and unlocks the gate and ushers us through. "This way" he growls.

As we approach the boat the man assists Peter on to the boat, I go to follow and he blocks me with his arm. "wait here" he orders. Peter turns to look and shrugs at me, Oh great I'll just stand here on the mooring. The heavy follows Peter onto the boat and leads him below deck. I pull my jacket round me tighter as the breeze has become considerably cooler, in my pocket I feel my phone and pull it out, its still dead. I sigh and place it into my handbag. I look and see our bags on deck. I glance around and see nobody, its really dead here. Taking a big step I almost have to leap, I hall myself onto the boat. I thud as my feet hit the deck and I once again look round to check the 'heavy' isn't lurking about. I let out a deep breath and tiptoe forward, careful not to knock anything or alert anyone's attention. I creep down the small stairway to below deck, it's glorious lush polished wood floor, marble counters, plush leather chairs and seating compartments, top of the range stuff this. I nod in appreciation, how the hell does this belong to one of Peter's friends.

As I step onto the wooden floor I'm stopped in my tracks, the 'heavy' is standing guarding a door and I can here muffled voices from beyond. I turn quietly to try and get away before he sees me obeying his order to 'stay here' on the mooring. As I and take the first step I hear a shatter of glass, glancing behind me I realise that my bag has just caught a vase on the side. My eyes widen as the 'heavy' begins to turn. I quicken on the steps, "Oi" he calls out and he begins to run toward me. I hurriedly move stumbling on the last step and falling fast to the deck. I squirm as I try to stumble to me feet but he's on my tail and he grabs me by the wrist. He pulls me toward him and my back is against him. He grabs my other wrist to stop me squirming.

"Here Sir" he calls out and I can hear the moisture that is splattered forward from his lips as he speaks. I hear a door and hurried footsteps along the boat.

"Carla!" I hear Peter exclaim but whoever is with him holds him back from me. Everyone is still and I look down at my feet. The breeze is blowing my hair across my face, I hear single footsteps on the deck and they are headed for me.

Suddenly a pair of shiny dress shoes appear next to mine, I feel the touch of a mans fingers run along my chin and suddenly lift it. It hurts. I stare directly into the dark eyes and see a scar on his top lip, He looks at me quizzically.

"Carla is it?" he asks and I nervously nod.

He takes both my wrists from the 'heavy' and he's big and muscular also. I don't fight him and I have no idea what going on, he pushes me forward back towards the stairs and I glance at Peter.

"What's going on?" I suddenly yell at him, but Peter doesn't answer.

The man who took me tightens his grip and pushes me forward again meaning I have to take the first step and go below deck.

I stand facing the door that I saw earlier, he reaches around me and opens it. "In" he orders and pushes me through. I stumble in and the door slams behind me, I hear the fumbling with the handle and lock and then the click as it bots shut. I run to it and try the knob but it won't open. I bang against the door and scream out "Peter!….. Peter what the hell?…." but no one shouts back. I silence and push my ear against the door straining to hear anything. I sigh, oh this is going to be a _great _adventure.


	3. Chapter 3

I must have been in here for at least two hours and I can't hear a thing, what the hell has Peter got us into? I bet he agreed to this silly '_adventure' _whilst he was off on one. I have admitted defeat and am slumped at the bottom of the door; knees against my chest and hoping Peter will be ok. I think back to yesterday maybe getting on that train was a bad idea, and again I'm emotional. Tears once again begin to form in my eyes and a single tear escapes and cascades gently down my cheek, before it can escape I wipe it away.

I hear a loud thud and then the boat begins to slowly move, my senses alert themselves and I intently listen for anything. We float gently and after what seems like an eternity the engines kick in and I hear voices, they are approaching the room I am in and I'm praying that it's Peter. The knob on the door twists and the fumbling with the lock begins again. I jump to my feet as I hear it unclick, I stand facing forward; eyes wide and I must look like a deer in headlights. I hold my breath. As the door swings open I am disappointed to see that evil man who locked me in here. I'm frozen to the spot as he enters and again shuts the door. The boat's speed has increased, "where's Peter?" I hiss.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" he address' me viciously, he walks towards me and is too close. I feel intimidated, me Carla Connor intimidated, I know very out of character. I think this is the effect of the attack and the situation here feels _exactly _the same. I gulp.

"So…you're not very obedient, I believe my man told you to wait on the mooring," he continues, his warm breath against my face. I think I'm going to be sick. My breathing hitches, as he gets closer again, as if he's going to kiss me, I turn my face and my cheek meets him.

"Tut Tut Ms Connor" he whispers in my ear. I itch my arm up my side but he grabs it without taking his gaze off me he grabs my wrist and pulls it behind me. He pushes against me making me step back instinctively, but I stop at the feel of the desk behind me, resting my free hand against it to steady myself. He continues to force himself against me and I'm once again panicking and so scared, beads of sweat have formed along my top lip and my palms are reacting the same way. I feel my hand give way. I'm now positioned awkwardly across the great oak desk, his increased body weight pushing against me and he lifts me face with two fingers under my chin so I'm staring directly at him. He has incredibly intimidating eyes and it's all a little too familiar, too Frank and too soon.

It is silent and although I'm in an uncompromising situation I'm fearful for what has happened to my Peter. Looking down at me Mr Evil smirks. "Well, well!" he exclaims moving his hand down my cheek, my throat and towards my chest. "Peter!" I call out in a hope that he isn't to far and can hear me. Its just desperation, its just bad luck for this to happen to me again. It just can't.

"Oh no… he can't hear you" he says sarcastically as an evil chuckle escapes from his lips.

I pull my self-together glaring at him, I am strong, and this is not going to happen. I try to wriggle free but he tightens his grip. I look around, not of much help to me but I'm praying for an intervention. Just as he reaches my breast, he stops and hovers his hand. I've literally stopped breathing.

A thud is heard from the upper deck, he immediately releases me and I catch my breath, thank god. He listens for a minute, but scowls and abruptly leaves the room, slamming the door as he leaves. It's not locked, I think fast and follow him. I can hear shouting as I reach the top step, peering over the small handrail and onto the deck I can see Peter standing his back to Mr Evil and facing 'the heavy' they look as though they've just roughed each other up. Peter is standing his t-shirt ripped at the collar and what looks like bruising on his arms. I don't think he's seen the other guy approach from behind, heavy is grinning ear to ear all teeth and bloody lip. Mr Evil is creeping slowly up on Peter and he's awfully close now. I don't think I just shout "Peter!"

He turns instantly and a fist meets him, it knocks him out cold and he hits the deck. "Peter" I cry out and I'm genuinely frightened, he's so still, lifeless in fact. Mr Evil turns and clocks me straight away. "Damn" I mutter and I hurry down the stairs as their footsteps follow me, I hear him yell out "Just get her Jim, NOW!" I'm on a damn boat what the hell am I going to do? I assess my surroundings, there are about four doors and I only know what's in one of them. I here the footsteps reach the stairs and I scurry quickly into the room I was in previously. Slamming the door I fumble trying to find the lock but it needs a key, oh god. I stand against it but I know it'll make no difference. My heart is racing; you can literally here the pounding in my chest. The footsteps stop at the door but Jim doesn't try the door. I tense. I'm trapped, alone and this is all Peter's fault.

The door pushes against me, oh no here we go again, and I decide the desk might act as a barrier I hurry to the far side of the room. He walks in again, smug and full of it, he's definitely dangerous I mean I should know I can't half pick them just look at the track record. "Ms Connor I can see you're going to cause me a hell of a lot of trouble" he approaches the desk.

"Where's Peter?" I demand.

"You're fond of Mr Barlow then?" he asks, smirking further and inching around the desk to where I stand

"I Love Peter!" I snarl making it clear.

"Shame" he says as he meets me and takes my hand. I snatch it back.

"What do you want?" I ask, clearly, calmly looking through the open door to see if Peter is out there but its just Jim and he's watching us intently.

"Jim, leave me with Ms Connor and deal with Mr Barlow, make sure he's restrained, oh and comfortable until I'm finished here" he says turning back to me.

"Wouldn't want any harm to come to that precious man now would we" he regards me intently as I examine his words. Jim pulls the door shut and I hear him once again on the upper deck.

Mr Evil gestures for me to sit and I play his game and act appropriately. Sitting I again watch him as he mirrors me by sitting opposite. "Now…" he begins leaning over me and getting close as before. "Mr Barlow up there owes me a lot of money, so he is going to repay his debt" he explains. I sit up shocked, Peter has never once said he owes money.

"How much?" I ask trying not to let on that I didn't know.

"Oh Ms Connor that is not your concern" he says patronisingly and he reaches over tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear and whispering to me "I know one of the ways he can pay some of it off though" and he kisses my ear lobe. I push him away, horrified. I stand and go to leave the room, he follows and his pace quickens as he follows me. I turn and see him approaching me and quicken also, as I reach the bottom step, he grabs my wrist, and twists it. I wince at the pain and turn to face him. "Ms Connor, we're on a boat, where are you going to hide," he snarls. I turn and try to pull away but the sight of Jim dragging Peter to the first step and pushing him forward gently stops me. Peter looks up as he stands on the first step, swollen bleeding lips, and black eyes, bruising covering his cheeks and what I can see of his torso through the ripped t-shirt. Gasping I look at him and I can't fight my tears he's been beaten half to death. His eyes meet mine he's devastated and looks at me with such love.

"Carla" he mumbles and Jim pushes him once again, his legs give out and he falls forward. I viciously shake off Mr Evils grasp and meet Peter as he falls into my arms. I can't hold his weight and like the now broken couple we are we fall to the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

I gaze at Peter, his breathing is rough and he tries to sit up wincing with the pain of his injuries. I turn to Mr Evil and he is smirking obviously proud of Jim's handy work. I scowl and turn back to caress Peter's cheek. "I'm sorry baby," he mutters coughing and spluttering. I know he's sorry but what the hell as he gotten us into? And to think he was going to bring little Simon here, that poor little boy. The tears stream down my cheeks and Peter uses all his strength to reach up and brush them away. Jim has joined us in the main cabin and is hovered over Peter. I clutch to him as Mr Evil snaps his fingers and gestures toward the couch. Jim wrestles him free from my grip and drags him to a lush leather couch and throws him with force down on it. I once more stumble to my feet walking swiftly to join Peter but I'm once again met by Jim's arm. I stop.

"Remove her" Mr Evil snaps as he slides into the seat opposite Peter.

"Sir " says Jim and before I can react he has me restrained.

I try to struggle but his grip is tight, my hands behind my back, Jim pushes against me in an attempt to make me move but I stand firm and hold my ground. He pushes again but I fail to move, I want to know what the hell is going on. I feel behind me Jim moving his hand so it holds both my fragile wrists, I hear a clink and a handcuff clips round one and it's cold metal feel makes me shudder. He clips my restrained wrist to the other and pulls on the cuffs. Dragging me backwards I stumble and almost fall, I trip on my own feet and am pulled once again down the small corridor toward the rooms.

The door slams and I hear the lock click, I look around my surroundings, still restrained I gaze upon a big double bed with satin sheets and a mountain of plush pillows and cushions. Great. Again I'm alone, locked up and this time restrained. A small bench with a padded leather topper is by the window, I shuffle over trying not to fall and look out of the small viewing space. In front of me is only sea; we must be out in the English Channel and not far from the open seas of the Atlantic. The sun is setting and I feel so sleepy, I must have been awake now for over twenty-four hours. I slide down onto the bench and sit, listening intently for anything, god knows how long I'll be held captive in here I just hope no more harm comes to Peter but I suspect it will.

I've been listening for hours and can occasionally hear the odd mumble and shout but nothing I can make any sense of. I think back to home, Michelle, Rob even Leanne and little Simon blissfully unaware of the hell me and Peter are enduring. Michelle, oh god I'd forgotten that we'd never finished that conversation this morning and now I can't contact her, I bet she's panicking and I suspect I will have a whole number of texts, voicemails and missed calls from her and maybe even Rob. I smile thinking of the pair of them at the factory, it'd had better still be up and running when I get back, if I ever get back.

The room has gradually got dark and automatic lighting has kicked in, it's still very dull. I'm feeling extremely groggy and my eyes heavy, but adrenaline keeps me from drifting off. I hear a door slam and scrambling in the hall, my door clicks and my bags are chucked in, but no Peter. Jim gestures for me to come forward but I don't trust him. He sighs heavily and enters the room; he shuts the door and comes over to me. He grabs my lapels on my blazer and halls me to my feet. Swiftly turning me by the shoulders he reached down and unlocks the cuffs, he regards me closely as I rub my wrists. They are sore, red where the cuffs have been to tight and cut into my olive skin. I look up and frown; I really don't think restraining me was necessary this is a locked room on a boat!

"I'll be outside all night Miss" Jim explains "If you need anything just knock on your door"

I turn and look outside; sure enough it's dark; that happened quickly. As Jim Reaches the door I turn suddenly and address him sternly

"Where's Peter?" my tone aggressive.

Jim doesn't answer me; he just slams the door shut in my face. I flop down on the bed, looking around I notice a socket and it gives me an idea. I go over to my bag and rummage through the side pocket, bingo. I pull out my phone charger and unravel it and grab my handbag for my phone. Grabbing it I swiftly move over to the socket and desperately rush to connect it all up. The screen lights and I laugh, just from relief that it works. I wait a few moments and it opens up, starting itself. I pray that I have signal out here, this will be my lifeline, and Michelle can help. I sit impatiently for ten minutes or so and tap the small wooden bedside. Finally it pings, I stare down at the screen and begin with the text messages. There's at least twenty, I open up the latest one.

*CARLA WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? THIS ISN'T FUNNY WHATS GOING ON*

Oh poor Michelle I bet this is driving her mad, I have one bar of signal, I glance up at the door and listen for a minute but I can here no movement. I take my chance and scroll through my phonebook to Michelle's number. I hesitate for a moment over the call button, is this good idea? I look again at the door and decide this is no time for thinking, I hit the small green telephone symbol and it rings.

"Carla!" I hear Michelle's voice scream and surprise is apparent. Before I can say a word she starts giving me the lecture about how worried she's been and how stupid my running away was.

"Chelle!" I scream back at her after a while, but am stopped from continuing as I hear fumbling at the lock on my door.

"I…. Oh Michelle we're…" but before I can even explain Jim has busted in and almost runs to grab my phone.

"Carla? Babe what's happening?" I can distantly hear Michelle's voice from the earpiece. "Are you ok? …. Carla?" she shouts further but Jim cuts the call before she can say anything further. He frowns at me furious, he grabs me once more by the wrists and yanks me from my seated position on the bed. He drags me past the rooms back towards the deck. I see Mr Evil stood looking out to the horizon, it's dark and cold and he is wrapped in a long blazer like, leather look jacket.

"Ms Connor, to what do I owe the pleasure" he smirks then focuses on Jim.

I sense Jim raise his arm and I glance over my shoulder to see him holding up my phone.

Mr Evil tuts and catches my phone as Jim tosses it to him. "Being disobedient again Ms Connor!" he exclaims as his menacing, dark, deep eyes penetrate mine and widen.

Jim unexpectedly releases me and pushes me forward; I lose my balance and fall at Mr Evil's feet. Jim turns and leave, "That all Steve? Sir" Jim asks and Steve nods. Jim leaves and we're all alone. I feel my body tense as Steve, great at least I now know his name, reaches down and lifts me by my arm.

I face him, his grin still present; he grips the phone against his palm. Walking to the boat edge he hovers over the railings. I gasp as he dangles the phone over board.

"No" I scream as he just lets go. I rush to the railing just in time to see it hit the water with a splash, a few bubbles develop and it ripples from the effect. My heart sinks, truly stranded now. Steve inches closely towards my side, and slides an arm round my waist, my whole body tenses once more. He twists me so I'm now facing him and he digs his hard callous fingers into my side.

"Where's Peter?" I demand, furious at him, I lift my arms to his chest and push him away.

He shakes his head "Carla, Carla, Carla, no need to worry about Mr Barlow, he's been taken care of for now" and he narrows his eyes.

My reaction is obvious, my breathing increases and I am fearful for Peter, what the hell have these _thugs_ done to him. "Not to worry" he explains grinning.

Grabbing my legs he lifts me over his shoulder and I kick and scream, it's pointless no-one can hear me but I fight with all the strength I have. He heads back below deck, my screams echoing off the wooden walls and floors and enters the second door on the right, the one that had been next to the original room I was locked in. He slams the door and throws me down onto a soft, plush bed. I immediately stop screaming and cannot breathe; he's actually going to do this to me.


	5. Chapter 5

I struggle beneath him as he raises my arms above my head and holds them firmly in place; I glance nervously side to side taking in my surroundings and to see if I can escape. My eyes dart quickly back to his as he slides his knee between my legs gently pushing them apart. My breathing quickens, laced with panic and I'm frightened, his knee rests at the top of my thigh. He leans down to kiss me but I turn and my cheek meets his lips, they're soft and his stubble slides across my cheek as he moves round to find my mouth. Looking forward a tear escapes and runs parallel with my nose, I'm trying to fight my tears but I don't think I can. I close my eyes as he moves about me acquainting himself with every detail of my body. All I can see is flash backs from my attack, Frank holding me against my will, taking advantage, how much it hurt. I whimper as I feel him release one of my wrists and run his hand down my hair, softly stroking my cheek, trailing a callous finger down the centre of my throat reaching my chest and smoothing his palm along my breast and along my torso, he reaches the bottom of my top. I screw my eyes up tight; he stops suddenly, his hand resting on the hem of my top.

I hear the door click open, and footsteps; I assume its Jim. Steve doesn't move, I feel him jerk his head gesturing to the left and he moves swiftly closer to my cheek, his breath warm and steady. I open my eyes in time to see Jim with his back to us a figure in his arms and he dumps him in a plush leather chair. Jim steps to one side and I call out Peter's name and with what I assume is all his strength he slowly lifts his head.

"Carla!" he cries to me and tries to stand, it is only then we both realise his ankles and wrists have been restrained.

"Please Mr Barlow, quiet and enjoy the show," says Steve wickedly and he winks at Peter.

Grabbing my head and turning it back to him Steve presses against my lips and I keep my mouth firmly closed trying to wriggle free. His hips are pinned against me holding me in place and he retraces his steps once again stopping at the hem of my top.

Peter squirms in his restraints, but is distracted when he again hears me whimper. Steve having removed his lips from mine and is now concentrating on my neck, nipping and kissing it. Peter grumbles but he really doesn't have the strength. Steve once again stops, lifting his head he looks in the direction of Peter. "Jim" he calls out and the door flies open once more. "Restrain Mr Barlow further so he can enjoy the show".

He doesn't stop to watch Jim carry out his orders instead he turns back to me. "Now Ms Connor, where were we?" he asks patronisingly and he runs his hand once more down my hand.

I'm so still; to scared to defend myself, I'm unsure of this man and just how dangerous he is. Jim has retreated once more and I glance back to Peter, he's raging and has that glint in his eye. Jim has secured him so he has no choice but to look forward to the disgusting display happening before him. Jim has covered his mouth and he cannot speak, poor Peter I know he's longing to save me, he remembers Franks attack and often still gets wound up by the whole event. He glares forward but he's concentrating his gaze on Steve, watching his every move. Steve moves his hand along the hem of my top and then moves south, his hand resting on the button of my jeans. "Stop" I cry from beneath him but he continues. I whimper again and try to struggle, he presses against me harder. I feel bile rise in my throat and throw my head in Peter's direction. I know he's helpless and I wish he could just break free and rescue me. Terror flashes across my eyes as Steve undoes the button and tugs on the zip, I kick my legs in a panic but he continues. I kick harder once more and it catches his attention, stopping he rises from me and I think he's going to leave. He removes his hand and reaches to his back pocket, tensing I panic again, as I stare to Peter's direction his eyes have widened and he is filled with fear.

Next thing I hear I the click of handcuffs once more and feel the cold metal as it contacts my skin. Tilting my head back as far as I can I see he has hooked them through a bar running along the top of the bed. I'm now as helpless and restrained as Peter. Moving down my body he runs his large palms down the tops of my legs and when he reaches the bottoms tugs them down. I kick hoping I will hit him but he grabs both my legs holding them tightly as he slides back up my body and placing himself between my legs. I close my eyes and the tears fall fast. I turn my head once more in Peter's direction I can feel it all and it's really happening I whimper as the tears fall faster soaking the sheets beneath me. I open my eyes as the memories come flooding back of how much worse this feels than when Frank did it. Is that even possible? Peter removes his fixed gaze from Steve and to me, he can see my pain and he struggles in his restraints a newfound sense of strength.

After what seems like forever the torture is over. Steve kisses me firmly on the lips before removing himself from me quickly and calling out once again to Jim. I am sprawled across a bed, Peter roughed up and pulling up against the restraints. Steve passes by Jim and licks his lips deliciously at me smiling wickedly from the doorframe "release her" he says pointing before he walks off. Jim shuts the door and moves swiftly to me, I can't move I just don't have the energy. He carelessly removes the handcuffs catching me wrists as he rips them from me, he glances over to Peter before heading over to him and checking he's secure. He nods satisfied and leaves us alone in the room.

I push myself up and slide over to the edge of the bed and towards Peter. I clasp his face between my shaking hands, tearstains on my cheek and new tears pricking the corner of my eyes. "Baby" I whisper and its barely audible. I reach across and remove the duct tape from his mouth. He lets out a deep breath and I kiss him softly, It's his fault we're in this mess, how could he do this? Why didn't he just tell me, or did he not know? Peter is still raging, "untie me," he orders but I don't know how. I fall back to the floor in front of him, I feel so empty so lifeless and I curl myself up as small as I can. My knees against my chest I clench them close in my arms and lay my head on the top. I sob uncontrollably.

"I'll kill him Carla" Peter suddenly shouts. He thuds his restrained feet against the floor and shouts as loud as he can "Do you hear me Steve, I'll kill you for this"

The engines silence and the boat stills, footsteps come from the upper deck and come grow quieter before echoing in our direction. Muffled voices talk outside the door and I gaze up at Peter; he's still but hazy through my teary eyes. The door flings open and I'm suddenly grabbed from behind, dragged out of the room, I scream, I never scream but I'm truly terrified. I try to fight against Steve but I'm no match for his strength. He continues to drag me the length of the boat and out again to the upper deck. It's freezing and I shiver, Jim is close behind us dragging Peter who is fighting him best he can. Good job Jim's twice the size of him really or he'd be struggling. I can hear Peter shouting and abusing him with a vicious tongue. We reach the railing and Steve pushes me hard against it and it smacks into me, it's going to bruise. He grabs the back of my neck and holds my head forward; I gaze into the unsettled black pool below me, the cold Atlantic.

"Now Mr Barlow, Co-Operate or she's going in," Steve explains as he forces my neck forward further and the railing is digging into my ribcage. I hang on for dear life, praying Peter won't say something stupid, and he never does as he's told he's too stubborn.


	6. Chapter 6

As I am held over the railing I shiver again, the sea air is freezing, its got to be early hours and my eyes a red, dry and sore from all my tears. Peter hasn't yet answered Steve's question, I feel him tighten his grip around my neck and again push me into the railing. Looking into the inky waters below I blink rapidly, I feel faint and my head is spinning I'm so dehydrated and feel weak. I can't concentrate on anything that is happening around me, my legs suddenly give way and I slide down the railings slumping over them.

"Come on mate, let her go" I hear Peter almost plead.

Steve turns back to hall me up; grabbing the back of my hair he pushes me forward with force. I fall beside Peter and Jim lets him go. Falling to his feet Peter helps me crawl up to my knees and pulls me into an embracing hug. He looks up to Steve

"Ok, you've made your point, I'll do it" and he sounds so choked up. He focuses back to me and I feel him stroke my hair softly and hold me close to his chest. Even though I'm in his arms I'm still shivering, he briefly lets go and takes his jacket off. Gently he places it around me and drapes it over my shoulders before grabbing me once again in an embrace. I close my eyes and drink him in this is our most intimate moment since we were on that train last night.

Steve walks passed us and back into the main cabin Jim follows and we are left once again alone. I look up at Peter gripping his t-shirt to keep him close. He shiver's and holds me tighter and placing a soft kiss on my forehead where he settles. I nuzzle close to his neck and wonder what he's agreed to do for Steve? I pluck up the courage to ask, I mean I need to know after all he's dragged me into all this.

"Peter, what have you agreed to do?" I ask.

He tightens his grip on me but doesn't answer and I feel him shake his head. "No, Baby not now, I'm exhausted" he explains. Letting go of me I fall back onto the deck and he stands, leaning down he offers me his hand, I take it and stumble up onto my feet. He pulls me close again and hugs me tightly, clasping me to him so I can barely breathe. "Peter" I mouth gasping for the air, he lets go and leads me back below deck.

Sitting to our left are Steve and Jim, the stare at us coldly and Peter releases my hand. "One moment Carla" he mouths before joining them the opposite side of the table. Steve snaps his fingers and Jim rises and stands tall in front of me creating a barrier between us.

"Remove" I hear Steve order and Jim grabs the top of my arm pushing me backwards and I step back but I'm reluctant. I would fight him but I really don't have the energy. We reach the bedroom and Jim walks me in instead of throwing me and leaves abruptly. I glance at my watch only to see it's two in the morning, I look longingly at the bed but as tired as I am I can't bring myself to sleep. I hope Jim is not outside the door I need to know what is going on so I tiptoe over being as quiet as I can. Pressing my ear against it I can't hear any movement so I move my hand down to the knob, gripping it tightly I carefully turn it and it clicks open. I let out a sigh of relief and am thankful it's not locked. Carefully I peel it open and poke my head round the doorframe and assess my surroundings. Jim is nowhere to be seen and there doesn't appear to be any sign of life. I step out and stand flush with the wall, holding my breath I slide along remaining on tiptoes and glancing up and down the corridor.

I stop at the end of the wall and peer round into the left of the main cabin. I can see Jim stood at the end of the table and faint movements and gestures flying across between Peter and Steve. I listen intently adamant to know what's going on.

"Ok so the plan Peter is.." I hear Steve begin. "We'll be hitting the docks of Lanzarote in a day or two, myself and Jim will work on this plan with you till then, you however are going to have to keep Ms Connor under control she is not to know this or she'll blow it and the price to pay for failure is expensive, do you understand?" His lips curl in amusement, as Peter is stunned.

Peter furrows his brow and licks his lip nervously, he holds his hands up almost in surrender "Ok, Ok Steve you have my word, I'll do it" I can tell from the way he's behaving he's nervous and it's not because of what he's about to do it's because he can't tell me.

"Right, now get a good nights sleep and we'll get to business in the morning" Steve gestures his hand to Peter and they shake.

"Jim escort Peter back to Carla" Steve orders and Jim begins to turn.

"Damn" I whisper but too loudly and Jim flashes his eyes in my direction, I can hear my heart pounding as I thud back against the wall and take a minute. I close my eyes and gulp hoping I haven't been seen but I hear the footsteps of what I think is Jim and Peter. Adrenaline rushes through me and I turn and hurriedly rush back to the cabin, I don't look back and dive through the doorway clinging to the door as I go to push it shut but it's stopped in it's path by a shiny black shoe and I slowly guide my eyes, laced with panic, upwards. I'm stopped as I stare forward my head begins to spin once more as I'm overwhelmed. Shit I'm in trouble now.


	7. Chapter 7

My heart's thudding against my chest as I take a deep breath and stand frozen to the spot, I let go of the door as it's gently pushed back on its hinges. Stood in front of me is Steve, his eyes alight with rage, but how did he know? He walks up to me his face right up against mine so my nose is touching the tip of his. His mouth arches up in a grin and with one swoop he reaches behind me grabbing a chunk of my hair and jolting my head back, I feel a shooting pain run down my back. Catching my breath I steady myself and lock my eyes on his. Getting close once again he plants a vicious kiss on my lips and it takes me by surprise. Steve stands firm as he lift his head back up re-affirming his gaze, opening his mouth he begins to speak and that evil glint shines in his eyes.

"Eavesdropping Ms Connor, dangerous game that," he hisses through gritted teeth.

I'm just about keeping my balance when he suddenly releases me and I fall back onto the hard polished floor, I struggle onto my elbows as he slowly crouches down beside me. "Dangerous game" he mutters again tucking my hair behind my ears. I'm wary but I knock his hand away and push with my heels to try and get up, he flattens his palm on my chest and pushes me back down, shuffling at my side and stretches his leg across and over me so he's straddling me. "Now Ms Connor" he says grabbing my chin and holding it firmly in his grasp "Do behave, I'd hate to see anymore harm to come to Mr Barlow just because you can't resist getting involved"

I don't reply, I'm pinned beneath him and scared of his next move, he's tried this before. He reaches up to my cheek and I think he's going to caress my cheek but he once again grabs my hair holding it tight so his knuckles turn white. Screwing up his face and gritting his teeth he shakes me violently, my roots pulling away from my head painfully.

"Answer me!" he yells, moisture spewing from his angry lips.

I take a deep breath and nod. He releases me and my head flops back, rising abruptly he moves towards the door and slams it shut as he leaves.

I pull myself up quickly using the bed to my right for support and once have regained my balance run to the door and twist and pull at the knob but it's locked. My heart is again racing and I clench my fists and bang against the door shouting and screaming for Peter. My fists begin to turn red as I hammer away at the door, my voice is croaky and I'm so exhausted. "Peter!" I scream one last time before my voice gives out, I'm shaking all over and my legs give out again for the hundredth time today. Tears again flow from eyes as I give up and lay against the door hugging it tightly, my palms flat against the wooden surface. I close my eyes, why is it every man I end up with lands me in a _'Situation'_ and I always come off worst. I gulp in between my giant uncontrolled sobsremembering Paul and all his rubbish and sleeping around, Liam and the affair, his death, Tony and the factory all the controlling and jealousy thrown around. Frank and the…. rape and then Peter with all his demons, the drink, family dramas etceteras and now this, why can't I just be happy? I were happy with Liam why didn't I just run away with him, oh how different my life would be right now. I sob again at the fond memories of Leebugs and how much I miss him.

I open my eyes as light floods through the small window in the room, bright blinding sunshine. I must have fallen asleep but I don't feel rested at all, my neck is stiff where I have fallen against the door and I rub it gently keeping my eyes squint and out of the direct light. I place my palms on the floor in front of me and lift myself from the hard surface of the floor. Slowly approaching the window area I shelter my eyes from my forehead with my palm and gaze out, all I see is calm blue waters. The boat is silent and all I can hear are the engines, glancing down at my watch I see that it is midday and I begin to wonder how long I will be left here. My stomach rumbles loudly and my mouth is as dry as desert sand, seeing a small sink to my right I walk over and rest myself against it. Turning the tap I cup my palms below the stream of cold water that emerges. I splash my face and then cup both my hands once again; interrupting the flow I collect a handful of water and throw it into my mouth. It's a relief and I feel fresher now, stopping the tap I look up into the small mirror. Mascara has run down my cheeks and my eyes are stained with yesterday's make up, using the backs of my hands I rub my cheeks until the marks are a faint grey.

I need to get out of this room, it is hot and stuffy and I can barely breathe, I walk back to the door and try again to open it but it's still locked. I raise my fist against the door and bang loudly "Hey!" I scream hoping that I can be heard.

The sides of my hands are still red and rough from yesterday and my wrists are still marked where the handcuffs had almost cut my circulation. No movement is heard, I try again this time shouting for Peter and practically screaming his name running my throat dry once more. I cough violently as my throat reacts to all my yelling and screaming. Deciding that this is getting me nowhere I admit defeat and retreat back until the backs of my calves meet the mattress edge and I sit.

A short while later I'm disturbed from my staring blankly at the door as I hear fumbling at the lock and handle. I hope it's Peter but suspect it's probably Jim. I scoot closely to the edge of the bed so I'm perched, the door creaks open gently and Jim saunters in, he reaches out and grabs the top of my arm pulling me to my feet. He drags me down the corridor and back to the main cabin; at a large seating area Peter and Steve are eating what looks like lunch. Peter looks refreshed and rested compared to me. He's got changed but is still black and blue from yesterday's beating, the way he is with Steve its like they're best mates. Jim stops at the table end and throws me beside Steve and he takes comfort beside Peter.

"Carla, how nice of you to join us, sleep well?" asks Steve his voice low and patronising, his smile evil and his eyes lit up with excitement. I glance to Peter, he smiles at me before reaching across the table and gesturing he wants my hand. I warily raise it from my side and give him that 'what the hell?' look. Taking my hand he clasps it between both his palms "You ok baby?" he asks calmly, I nod and he smiles a tight-lipped grin. I note Steve glaring in his direction and he suddenly lets my hand go, I retreat back but Steve clasps my hand and pushes it against the table resting his on top. I wriggle it beneath but he affirms his grip and turns his attention back to me, "Hungry?" he asks but I turn away and stare blankly in Peter's direction. Am I ok? Stupid question, do I look ok?

"Come on Carla you have to eat" Peter says as he grabs a plate and spoons some of the food from his plate, clinking the metallic spoon against the cold china. He slides the plate in front of me and smiles this time more reassuringly. My stomach rumbles again loudly and I know they've all heard it, so I gently pick up the fork with my free hand and spoon up some of the pasta and sauce from the plate. It's a pleasure to eat and I can't help but wonder who made it, I haven't seen any crew but assume we're not alone.

"She's gorgeous" I hear Steve mumble to Peter as I continue to eat. Glancing up I see Peter, he's wound up by the comment and I know it's as much torture for him to see Steve all over me and talking about me that way as it is for me enduring it.

Steve turns almost facing me and releases my hand from his left but sharply places his right in its place. "Yes, so gorgeous" he continues and I can feel his eyes fixed on me. He reaches up and runs his fingers through my hair catching on the occasional tangle. I tense as he collects my hair and drapes it behind my shoulder and moves the back of his knuckles down my cheek before he reaches over and kisses me softly leaving a wet mark. A single tear escapes from my eye as I drop my fork and it clatters against the plate edge.

"STOP!" Peter yells and he stands reaching across the table grabbing the lapels of Steve's jacket. He releases my neck where his hand has gently rested and also my hand, which I snatch back. He stands to meet Peter at eye level and shakes free of his grip.

"Now Peter, calm not my fault she's irresistible," he says his eyes gleaming wickedly as he looks down at me. "Oh and we do have a deal, you owe me…remember" he clearly directs at Peter.

"Carla's not part of the deal" Peter blurts out and I can sense the tension. He's mentioned the deal, I'm not supposed to know, this is going to end badly I can just sense.


	8. Chapter 8

Jim grabs Peter's arm and drags him from the table, he kicks and struggles eventually breaking free and running back stops at the table and leans over to Steve, rage filling him and fuelling his actions. Jim comes to Steve's rescue restraining Peter and slamming him into the dishes and glasses that scatter the table. Holding Peter's face into all the smashed china and glass Jim keeps him still.

"Steve" Peter yells half muffled

Steve has pushed me off the seat and grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back, fiddling in his pocket he fishes out something from deep inside. Bringing it round and raising it to my eyes, I see a small black handle, he runs his finger along the side and then clicks a button, and out pops a blade. Jim twists Peter's head so he is able to see Steve, his eyes widen.

"Don't!" he exclaims through gritted teeth and he screws up his eyes as in pain.

Steve has the blade placed across my throat and I cease breathing. "Please don't," I whisper as tears prick the corner of my eyes.

Peter wrestles and struggles against Jim his eyes furious and glazed, I've seen that look before the night Frank raped me. I can feel the blade digging into my soft skin but not yet breaking blood.

"Mr Barlow, now please stop trying to fight against me, it won't get you anywhere and I'm sure you wouldn't want any harm to come to the gorgeous Carla here" he smirks over exaggerating every syllable of my name.

Peter immediately stops squirming and is still, Steve releases his grip on me and removes the blade gently sliding it along my throat and I can tell Peter has stopped breathing in that very moment.

Steve pushes me back into the seat and grabs Peter's face from the table, he cries out in pain as his neck twists and he is forced to face him. I can see blood dripping from Peter's cheek and the corner of his eye and I know it's from the smashed tableware he's been grineded into. I gasp, almost in shock at the sight, it's unsettling and this whole experience is scaring me. Peter however is keeping relatively calm but I'm guessing that like me he's dying on hard liquor. The joys of being an alcoholic! Jim releases Peter and Steve stands firmly in front of him, he turns his head to me "You heard nothing!" he hisses and focuses back on Peter.

"Go with Jim, I'll be in shortly, I think I'll spend some time with the gorgeous Carla" he says again wickedly grinning at Peter and loving every moment of this torture.

Peter doesn't fight the request and glances once more at me, his eyes hazy and I can see the tears forming.

"Go Baby, I'll be ok" I say reassuringly, I don't really want him to leave me with this animal but I'm learning this is a game and I've played these games before and I suspect he is unaware.

The old Carla wouldn't have tolerated this crap and I curse Tony and Frank for how weak they have made me. If my Pauly Walnut had pulled this stunt I would have fought it vicious tongue and all. I miss that girl she was so strong and now look at me, a mess webbed in tragedy and heartbreak. A stray tear escapes and runs down my cheek, reaching my chin it hovers for a second before dripping onto the white tablecloth with a splash. It leaves a grey stain from the mascara mix, another tear then falls following the path of the first. I want to know what's going on so I bravely turn and face Steve who is watching me. Taking a deep breath I open my mouth to speak.

"What has Peter agreed to do?" I ask and am surprised I don't choke on my words.

Lifting my hand to his mouth Steve plants on it a gentle kiss; oh he thinks he's such a charmer.

"Carla, dear Carla that is nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, as I'm sure I told you yesterday after you heard our conversation, dangerous game" and the wicked smile is flashed my way. Cupping my cheek he runs his thumb across my cheek

"Be a good girl now, the men have business too attend to" with this comment he fleas the table and disappears to the office.

Hearing the door slam I let out a deep breath and scoot to the seat edge to remove myself from the table. As I do a tall blonde girl in white saunters up to the table, she must be crew. "Please don't cry Miss," she says handing me a napkin. I look up to her and nod appreciatively, then make my way out onto the upper deck. Turning full circle I see we are surrounded by only sea, I dab my eyes as another tear escapes. I hear the cabin crew clearing all the broken tableware away; they must wonder what the hell has gone on. Wandering over to the railing I look over, and feel physically sick at the thought I was held over them last night. I gaze out feeling lost, lonely and just wishing Peter and I had never left Wetherfield.

I suddenly feel breathing on my neck, and hands slide under my arms and round my waist pulling me close. I tense and my heart races, my hair is gently swept back revealing my cheek and I slide my eyes to try and see who has embraced me so intimately. I'm relieved to see the distressed leather of Peter's jacket and I relax immediately. He kisses me softly on the cheek and I turn myself to him.

"Peter" I mutter and he pulls me closer to him. I lift my hand and run my fingers along all the small cuts from this morning that cover his left cheek. They shake as the tips meet each mark, again a tear escapes and Peter is quick to wipe it away. Cupping my face in his hands he kisses me and moves his hands to again hold me as close as he can. We stand silent for a moment. "Peter, please tell me what's going on?"

"No, I can't" he answers firmly and I feel angry at him, he can trust me, god I trusted him and look where its got me.

Pushing him away I fold my arms and sternly walk away pushing passed him and back to the bedroom

"Carla, Please Carla wait" he calls out after me and I can hear him follow me.

Reaching the bedroom I storm in and slam the door right in his face, I fling myself back against it in anger.

"Get lost Peter," I shout from inside

"Carla, please love, I'm sorry" he tries outside the door but I don't respond.

I hate this, I'm stuck on a damn boat no idea what's happening, treated like a child and it's so confusing. Damn you Peter Barlow, _why the hell do I love you?_


	9. Chapter 9

I wake curled up on the double bed blinded by a ray of the setting sunshine streaming across my face. I blink as I stretch out and let go of the pillow I'm clinging to. I dread to think how long I've been asleep and what I've missed but do I really want to know? Shuffling to the end of the bed I gracefully place my feet down on to the wooden floor. It's cool beneath my toes, looking up I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Teardrops have stained my cheeks and my right is pink where it has been pressed against the satin sheets. I shuffle over and again splash my face with water, no trace of yesterdays make up remaining except for small dark shadows round the rims of red eyes. I glance at myself in the mirror further, I don't really recognise the wreck of a women staring back at me.

A knock suddenly echoes on the door and makes me jump, my voice croaking I ask whom it is.

"Jim" His voice booms through

"Come in" I answer bravely wondering what he could possibly want.

He cough's as he enters and I turn to face him. He places a couple of boxes on the seat beside the door and looks back up in my direction. I stare back quizzically and raise an eyebrow.

"For you, Steve requires your presence for dinner at seven. You are to wear these," he says gesturing his flat palm outwards in the direction of the boxes his expression blank.

I scoff, and fold my arms in a defiant stand, _requires me, the cheek._

"I'll be back at seven," explains Jim as he closes the door.

I lift the boxes and place them side-by-side on the bed. I can't help but wonder where he acquired these in the middle of the Atlantic. I rub my hand over the biggest of them and take a deep breath before lifting the lid. Inside lays silky red material, taking it between my fingers I gently pull it from the box, it's slinky and knee length, spaghetti straps and a low open back. I gasp, it's beautiful just a shame it's a present from scum like Steve. _He wants me to wear this?_

I glance at my watch, its quarter to seven, I rush to get out of my clothes and slip into the dress, It falls against my skin and is just that tiny bit to big, I can tell I'm going to be fighting to keep myself covered and can't help but wonder what sick plans he has. In the second box are red kitten heels, sitting on the edge of the bed I slip on the shoes and I glance once more at my watch and have less than a minute to rummage in my bags for a hairbrush. As I unzip the bag the door opens and Jim enters, he scoops down and grabs me by the arm pulling me away and out of the room. Reaching the corridor I shake free of his grasp, stopping to straighten my dress and scowling at him as he nudges me to move forward.

I step into the main cabin to see Peter and Steve sat at the table as they had been at lunch. Jim hurries passed me and takes a seat beside Peter. Steve smiles over at me appreciatively, wolf whistling he eyes me up and down and Peter glares at him. He pats the seat beside him and I warily walk over and perch as far from Steve as possible.

"Nice of you to join us Carla, looking gorgeous" he gleams a wide smile at me.

I look over at Peter, his blood boiling, I feel Steve move his hand across my bare back and the tingle shoots up my spine. His fingers meet my side and he pulls me closer to him, he doesn't release me.

"Now Ms Connor" he begins and he cups my chin and turns my face, instinctively I look down I don't want to see that wicked gleam in his eyes. Steve however has a different plan; he releases my chin and tilts my head up as his fingers gently slide away.

"Do I have your full attention?" he asks. My throat dries and I can only nod. My eyes watery and I'm shaking, he knows I'm scared and he loves it. Ginning he takes my hand, lifting it to his lips and kisses my knuckles, he winks and opens his mouth to continue speaking. Swiftly he turns his gaze back to Peter.

"Mr Barlow here informs me that you are a _'business woman' _and I can trust you so hears the deal…" He turns abruptly back to face me and releases the grip on my hand. I give Peter a 'what the hell?' stare and he presses his lips into a thin line and tries to smile.

Steve continues, "So Ms Connor, Peter owes me money, but you already know that. Unfortunately Mr Barlow here can't pay his debts" he gives that wicked grin again and I have turned my full attention on him. He's going to tell me the plan!

The blonde waitress appears, "Drinks?" she smiles sweetly. Steve nods and she grins before turning and walking over to a small bar area on the right of the cabin. It's caught my attention a few times and as tempted as I've been I've steered clear. Glasses clink as she grabs three and brings them to the table, in her other hand she holds a very expensive looking bottle on Shiraz, she pours it gently into my glass first and the giant wine glass fills. No sooner has she removed the bottle from the glass' rim it's to my lips and I take an un-ladylike mouthful. It erupts in my mouth, how I've missed this. Peter has put a hand over his glass and Steve's is only filled halfway, I place the glass in front of me and blush.

"No please, Carla, Indulge yourself" Steve continues and gestures for my glass to be refilled.

"Down to business, Carla darling I assume I can trust you so Peter here is going to pay back his debt another way"

I look in Peter's direction, he's tense, nervous even.

"How?" I ask but now I'm not sure if I really want to know this.

Steve lifts his hand to my hair and slides it down and in a flick it's behind my shoulder, my cheek exposed and his touch invades running his knuckles up and down.

"Well, my business is a dangerous one darling and you see Mr Barlow is going to run errands in Europe for me, all over in fact until his debt is covered."

"What kind of errands?" I probe further and reach for my wine taking another mouthful or two.

"Drug runs etcetera" Steve blurts out.

I choke on my freshest mouthful and turn my gaze to Peter; my mouth gapes open in surprise and he shrugs apologetically. This is dangerous, he is so stupid and we should have just stayed in Wetherfield. It may have its problems but this is ridiculous he's practically going to be working for the mafia!

I'm furious I grab the glass of wine and down the lot; it really does not seem a strong enough drink for the occasion. Steve lifts the bottle and again refills my glass.

"You will be a good girl now and keep this to yourself? Dangerous game this business" Steve grins again and his eyes are a light. He is suddenly distracted and gazes down to my upper arm, its only then I notice one of the spaghetti straps has fallen and the dress is barely covering my left breast. I hurriedly grasp it and place it back on my shoulder. Damn dress.

Steve re-engages Peter in conversation, I pay them no attention, I can't believe what he has just told me, what the hell was Peter thinking? Anything could happen to us and no one knows where the hell we are! I bite my lip nervously and begin on the fresh glass of wine. I swirl it occasionally and then sip once more, appreciating every drop that passes my lips. This is so stupid reminds me of the dodgy deals Tony used to hook up, he knew dangerous people, in fact thinking about it he was dangerous people. I've transported my self back to that night at the factory. My heart rate instantly increases as I remember Tony holding me and Hayley hostage, I think that must have been the most scared I've ever been.

"Carla" I hear my name and I'm dragged from my reverie, I gaze around Jim and Peter have disappeared, how did I not notice? How long have I been sat here?

I suddenly feel fuzzy and look upon the table; three empty bottles of wine surround me. I look up and Steve is stood awkwardly between the table and the bench. He smiles at me again and it's evil, the worst I've seen him flash my way. I hold my breath and get up from the table, wobbling I instinctively reach out and Steve grasps my arm. He pushes me back and I lose balance falling forward and he catches me in his arms.

All of a sudden I'm really mad at Peter, he was going to keep this from me! I push away from Steve.

"Where's my Peter?" I drunkenly mumble

"Don't worry about Mr Barlow," he says softly in a wicked tone and he scoops me up and over his shoulder. I try to struggle and kick against him, what the hell is he doing?

My head spins as I stand centre of the bedroom, frozen once again to the spot and Steve is breathing down my neck it's warm and his breath smells sickly sweet and I recognise it as the scent of rum. I hope he's not been feeding that poison to Peter as he's clearly discovered our kryptonite. He scoops my hair to the right exposing the left side of my neck; he gently places his lips and plants a trail of sticky wet kisses. I can't breathe, this is too much, I've drunk too much, I gag. Steve blissfully unaware continues his assault on my body, a single tears falls and runs down my cheek stopping and resting on my top lip. Steve places his hands firmly on my shoulders and slips his fingers beneath the spaghetti straps on my dress, he lifts them and sliding his palms down my arms he begins to remove the dress.

"Stop" I whimper. I won't let him to do this to me.

He ignores me as he continues to caress one spot on my neck suckling at it. Another tear escapes and follows the path of its predecessor. Suddenly he lets the dress go and it falls, catching at my hips and leaving my top exposed. No it's too much the bile rises in my throat and I can taste it, I cannot take anymore of this torture, I pull away and to my amazement he lets go. Hurrying to the door fumbling I twist and pull at the handle with all my strength but it's no good.

"Locked baby" he says as he grins and wickedly chuckles.

Terror flashes in my eyes, they're wary and wide as I turn and push my back against the door. Steve strides over and taking my face between his hard hands kisses me furiously. I press my lips tightly together; he can't do this he just can't. I close my eyes for a moment. When I open them I see Frank, stood in front of me pushing into me, pinning me to the door, just as before.


	10. Chapter 10

I awake in a panic, sitting bolt upright and gasping for air. I'm pouring with sweat and I push my hair out of my eyes and off my face. My mind has been racing through memories of that fateful night that Frank raped me. His words "It's your fault, you made me do it" ring in my head clearly. I look around and see I'm alone, the sheets beside me untidy. My head pounds, I definitely hit the sauce way to hard last night. Scrambling out of the sheet tangled between my legs and wound round my body I edge to the end of the bed. I look around the floor for my clothes; all that remains is that scrap of material dress I wore at dinner last night. Last night? I'm trying so hard to remember what happened, someone has obviously slept beside me, or maybe with me, but who? This is so embarrassing!

I pull on the dress and it slides down my body, as before it really is very indecent. I run my fingers through my hair to make myself more presentable and try the door. It clicks open easily and I step into the corridor, it's cooler than the bedroom and I can smell the strong scent of the freshly polished floor.

I creep up the corridor not sure of what I'll find, my head is still spinning and I'm feeling quite faint although I suspect that is because I've barely eaten since I stepped foot on this damn boat. I clutch my palm to my head and steady my self by reaching out for panelled wall to prop myself up. Struggling to breathe, I begin to double over and below me see the floor move, swirling around me and making me dizzy than I felt back in the bedroom.

"Carla" I hear though the voice is muffled.

I try to look up but I just can't.

"Carla are you ok?" I hear further, the voice concerned.

I feel sick, suddenly my hand slips from the wall and I slide down onto the floor. My head hangs forward almost hitting the floor and I feel a sweaty hand grip my arm and give me a gentle shake. I groan uncomfortably and close my eyes hoping it will help. My eyes open and close slowly and I sway where I'm sat. A hand gently cups my chin and lifts my head up; through blurred sight I see it is Steve. Suddenly I push my palm flat against the wall, I'm not comfortable and I just want to get away from him. Flattening my other palm against the wall I try to stumble to my feet but I continue to slip on the floor and Steve keeps his tight hold on my arm.

"Carla!" I hear again but this time I recognise the voice, its Peter

Steve's hand has found it's way onto my barely covered thigh and is making its way further north and under the silky material, it makes me tense and my breathing rapidly increases.

"Whoa mate get off her!" he continues and I just about manage to lift my head to see him push Steve away although my vision is still blurred so it's hard to tell.

"Peter" I mumble slowly as he kneels in front of me.

"Yes baby, I'm here," he says as he examines me closely and holds my head in his hand.

He recognises the signs, he knows I was drip fed that poison last night and he was powerless to help. Tears form in the corner of his eyes and he's so disappointed in me, I just can tell.

"I'm Sorry" I mumble but it's croaky and barely audible.

He shakes his head a runs his thumb back and forth affectionately over my cheek.

I feel a chill and both Peter and I glance up; Steve is hovering over us, wicked glint ever present in his eyes. He reaches down and in one foul scoop grabs me by the arm hauling me to my feet. My knees wobble and I can barely hold my weight. I fall back but he pulls me back up again and holds me in front of him, I fall back against him but he continues to keep propping me up.

"What do you think you're doing?" Peter yells at Steve, picking himself up from the floor as Steve begins to drag me away.

He's not interested at all and my legs reluctantly take each step. As we reach the top deck Peter is on our tail, the air is fresh and crisp and the sun bright in the sky but the heat is unbearable. I figure we can't be far from Lanzarote now.

Steve stops instantly at the stern, as he sees Peter he flings me forward into the railing and the impact is heavy. My head has hit it pretty hard and I fall to the deck. I'm heaped at his side as Peter stops in front creating a cool shadow that shelters me. The dizziness has not faded and my mouth has run dry. They stand tall confronting each other, they're voices muffled and I can make no sense of their exchange. I try to sit up but don't have the strength, I gasp for air as my head becomes worse and the pounding has turned to an increased pain. I reach my forehead to clasp it in my hand as I do I feel a wet substance to the top left hand side. I pull my hand away and it splattered with a faint trace of blood. I hold my shaking palm out in front of me, the arguing ceases. I hear a thud and Peter is on his knees in front of me, tilting my head back as gently as he can he pushes my hair back and runs his finger along my hairline. I assume this is where the blood is coming from. I slump and Peter wraps his arm around my waist, my eyes flicker and glaze, the sun blinds me and before I know it all goes black.


	11. Chapter 11

I wake flat on the deck, no one is around and I have no idea how long I've been out of it for. The sun is baking down on me. I crawl over to the stairwell with all the energy I have. Twisting my legs round I place them on the top step, my whole body aches and as I take a minute to look at my arms I'm covered in small bruises. The dress has ripped where I fell; great I look a right mess. I gaze down into the cabin. Jim is stood and I can hear the faint sound of Steve's voice. I go to slide down onto the first step and grab the handrail but lose my balance, I see myself beginning to fall but Jim is there in what seems like a nano second and catches me. Although he is the enemy I'm grateful.

He takes me to the table where they are both sat and positions me next to Steve. Why always next to Steve?

"Feeling ok?" Steve wickedly asks.

I ignore him and look in Peter's direction, he glances instantly at my injury and again he looks tearful. In front of them both is a map of Lanzarote, marked is a marina and I can see it reads Playa Blanca. Steve extends his index finger and points to it. Peter nods as if they've discussed something previous to my arrival. Lifting an envelope from his side he pushes it across to Peter, who picks it up as if he's going to open it and Steve shakes his head. Licking his lips Peter nervously furrows his brow and then nods once more. Jim has been away from the table for several minutes, when he returns he has a couple of thick crystal whisky glasses each with a few mouthfuls. He places them firmly in front of Steve and Peter. Instinctively Peter pushes his away, but I can see he's tempted. Steve has raised his glass to his thin lips and swallowed it in one go. Pulling away and placing it back in front of him he pushes Peter's glass back towards him.

"Go on, drink, It's just the one, seal the deal" Steve teases.

Peter sees it as a threat and he drinks, my poor baby, its just one step to many in the wrong direction but I can't criticise, as I was tempted just the same last night and my will power failed. Peter picks up the glass, stares Steve square in the eye and the amber liquid is gone. Jim instantly pours him another but not Steve. Peter takes it in a firm grasps and repeats the previous steps.

He's now necked at least six shots of the whisky and I'm crying full flow, but he's not even looked at me he's fixed on Steve but the drink is taking effect, I just hope he stops soon.

Jim refills the glass once more.

"No" Peter replies sternly and pushes it towards Steve, the contents sloshing up the sides.

Steve smiles that wicked smile. "Ok Mr Barlow, well played, at least you now your boundaries" and as he finishes he turns to me. I feel him regarding my intently and refuse to look at him.

He picks up the glass and swallows it's contents, he grins all teeth and places the empty glass in front of me. He nods and Jim clinks the bottle along the rim pouring a generous portion.

"Drink" he orders and I glance at Peter. He's holding his own and he shakes his head at me. I raise my hand; it shakes violently as I reach for the glass. My will power is definitely shot and I'm a pathetic excuse for an alcoholic. After all I rely on it more than Peter, he may lose the plot and after a while have one outrageous night, but I'm constantly craving it and have a secret stash in the factory office.

"No baby" I hear Peter warn across the table and my hand backs away.

"Come on Carla, just the one" goads Steve. He knows how tempted I am, what should I do?

I take a deep breath, I can smell the sweetness of the whisky, it's no use I want it, no I need it. I reach again for the glass and take it swiftly; I drain the contents and crave more. As he has done with Peter he has Jim refill my glass over and over.

I've lost count of how many I have now sunk. Jim has poured me another, Steve's eyes dare me to drink it so I go to grasp it. It's cruelly snatched away by Peter. My eyes narrow at him as I reach for it back, deep down I know he's only trying to help but I need that drink!

"Peter" I moan drunkenly

"No Carla it's for your own good" he says as he pushes the glass to Steve. He looks quizzically at Peter and smirks.

"Its not funny Steve, she can't drink this" Peter orders sternly.

"Would you like the drink Ms Connor?" Steve wickedly teases lifting the glass by the rim between his index finger and thumb rocking it gently.

I'm so tempted, I lift my head and nod and as I take the glass I glance at Peter. His lips have pressed into a thin line and I know he's annoyed but he can't blame me, not only half an hour or so ago he was doing the very same. I don't hesitate and shot it defiantly slamming the glass back on the table. I'm a grown up so I'll do as I please Peter Barlow you are not my keeper! The whiskey has consumed me and I stare blankly at the glass as it fills once more with the amber liquid. Peter glares in my direction, "Carla! Stop!" he yells and reaches once more to snatch the glass I have just reached for. Our hands meet round the glass, it reminds me of all the times we've fought over a bottle.

"Get off Peter" I snarl and he backs off.

I rise to my feet as the last drops leave the glass and meet my lips. My head is tilted right back as I savour it running down my throat. I slam the glass back down and straighten up where I'm met by a disappointed look from Peter and Steve grinning proudly.

"Carla, I do like a woman who can take a drink, I like the effect it has on you" Steve says winking at Peter.

Peter now looks as though he could kill him, "What effect?" he suddenly snaps.

"She's very accommodating" he aims smugly in Peter's direction.

Me accommodating? Unlikely unless I'm interested and in the case of Steve I am not.

"What the hell does that mean?" asks Peter leaning over further to Steve.

Steve's eyes shine; he shakes his head and rises to his feet. He subtly moves an arm across my exposed back. I hate this dress it's _so _indecent! But saying that I would have worn this for Liam any day! Reaching right round me he grips my side digging his fingers in. He is so close to the side of my face and I can smell the whisky on his breath also. My senses alert and I sense I'm either going to unlike what I hear or dislike what he is going to say. I feel his lips brush my ear and he stops, places a gentle kiss and then goes to speak. I expect a whisper but he speaks at normal pitch.

"Yes, very accommodating, I had fun last night" he says whilst running his index finger down my bare arm. He turns to Peter and winks.

"She didn't, she never would!" Peter yells jumping up from his seat to be almost eye level with Steve.

The room is deadly silent as Peter's words linger. He has so much faith in me but I don't remember last night and I just don't know why.

"Carla?" he eventually continues, looking to me for answers I don't have.

"Yes Peter she did and just needs a little encouragement to persuade her" he takes delight in explaining.

Peter's jaw drops open, "Carla?" he tries again, but I'm too embarrassed, maybe I did? I think back to this morning and the bedroom, the sheets, my clothes on the floor and how I felt. Makes sense but did I really? Steve? No? I look down I'm nervous. Closing my eyes the images of Frank run clear again in my mind and I remember.

"You drugged me" it's barely audible.


	12. Chapter 12

"Animal" Peter shouts as he flings himself across the table. He takes Steve completely by surprise as he clenches the neck of his shirt. He's fuming, raging even he wasn't even this cross with Frank! I look around for Jim, he usually jumps in to save Steve's arse but he's nowhere to be seen. Peter's unoccupied fist is twitching, he's waiting for Steve to say something so he can take out his frustrations but Steve remains silent.

"Sir" Jims voice booms from the top stair.

"Come on Peter, let me go 'ey" says Steve shrugging.

Peter raises his fist and hit's Steve full on. Steve's stunned and loses balance but just for a moment. I gasp, I look shocked but I really am not. Peter let's go and steps back, he lifts his arm to his forehead and wipes away the sweat that has formed on his sleeve. Steve glares at him for a few minutes and for a moment I think he might attack Peter but he doesn't. He turns pushes me and I fall to the floor as he steps over me. I scowl what the hell was that? In a flash Steve and Jim have disappeared to the upper deck.

"Carla we need to talk" Peter blurts from nowhere.

I give him a quizzical stare, oh so now you want to talk?

"Come on Car, I need to know, last night? What happened?" He continues further.

I reach for the bottle of whisky that Jim has left on the table and hover it over the glass to pour another. Peter's hand reaches mine and I hesitate for just a moment. I can't quite remember why, what with all my fuzzy thoughts and that why I'm mad at him but I know I am. I pour, a larger than I should portion.

"Carla, please, Carla just talk to me please," He's practically begging me. I turn my back to him and he places his hand upon my shoulder but I instantly shake him off. Taking the glass and lifting it to my lips I take a long sip, I spin round to Peter, tears gently trickle down my cheeks. I assume it's the whisky making me so brave and I take another gulp of the drink empting the glass. Peter looks scared. So he should be.

He pulls the glass from my grip and moves closer to me. I stare at him, I'm now the one fuming, he hit Steve, he hit an unpredictable dangerous man we can't escape, that was definitely fuelled by the drink.

"Carla please?" he looks emotional, really upset; he knows I'm mad.

I suddenly snap. "Carla, please Carla, what the hell Peter, you want to talk?" he nods.

"About what last night, it's not like I know, that monster of a man you got involved with drugged me" I stop gasping for air. My heart pounds in my chest. Peter opens his mouth to speak but I begin again, I'm not done.

"Have I not been through enough?"

I suspect he doesn't know what to say but he apologises. I scoff and fold my arms, so not impressed.

"Seriously Peter, this is a mess and to think you were going to drag poor Simon through all this to. Why the hell did we get mixed up in this, sorry me, how the hell did I get caught up in this?" I throw at him. He stands silent. I shake my head and walk passed him being sure to catch him and hoping the Peter I know, the Peter I love will appear.

"Jesus Carla, what the hell? I'm trying my best here," he yells.

I turn, back to him and frown. "You think keeping secrets from me is trying your best?" I scream in retaliation. Peter Barlow is just exhausting, but what's new all my ex's have been the same. He doesn't answer me.

"When we get of this damn boat you're on your own, I'm not doing this Peter, I had just got my life back together and you've torn it apart like all your predecessors" My tone is hushed and my voice croaky because my throat is so try from all the screaming.

He laughs "Don't compare me to Frank or whatever" he yells.

"I'm leaving Peter, when this boat docks I'm gone" I calmly explain.

Peter is angry, he's breathing rapidly and I'm wary I know this trait in men, Frank had it, Tony and Paul too and even Liam to some extent. We stare at each other, I'm still waiting for that Peter I love but I fear he no longer exists. I turn and start to leave for the bedroom. Crash. The glass smashes against the wall in front of me and shatters into tiny pieces all over the floor. My eyes widen in fear. I glance over my shoulder and see Peter slouched a little, his deep and heavy. He just threw that at me, was he trying to hit me or was that just a lucky escape?

Peter is expressionless and I'm not going to wait around to see the outcome of this mood. I run for the bedroom and slam the door. I sink to the floor resting against it, well that was an experience and I do suddenly feel sober. I stare into space and remember so many times when Peter and me were happy and a small smile decorates my face. Peter coming to my rescue after the rape. The night he told me it was me; that he loved me. I get butterflies as I did that night. I told him then I was fragile, he knew and yet he's done nothing but give me hell but I still love him. Maybe I'm being too harsh on him?

I think better of my actions and push myself up onto my feet. I'm amazed I still have this stupid dress on I one piece. Well sort of.

"Peter?" I call from the corridor, warily moving into the main room in case he's armed with another glass. He's sat at the table, looking a worn out and broken man. I glide over to him and slide in the seat opposite. He looks up, full whisky glass in one hand and lit cigarette in the other. I reach out and clasp his hands.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. I give him a sympathetic look.

"I know baby, me too" I reply and gaze at him lovingly. I hate him upset, down and feeling sorry for himself, I know he's stronger than this.

"Will you still go?" he asks after what has seemed like an eternity of silence but before I can answer Jim and Steve disturb us. They're not alone.


	13. Chapter 13

They all look so stern, serious even. Peter and I slowly rise to our feet and I stand beside him. Instinctively he stands across me, a human shield. I look over his shoulder. Steve is standing beside a tall and handsome man, he looks a little bit like Trev, if he was of Spanish origin and stood either side of Jim are two weedy looking, greasy Spanish men dressed in linen with their shirts open at the neck showing a more than generous portion of hairy chest. Peter doesn't look worried. Was he expecting these men? Does he know them? But I think more importantly where did they come from?

Steve stares blankly at Peter as his new little friend opens his mouth to speak.

"So, this is 'Mr Barlow'" he points out as he saunters over in our direction, he stops for a second and turns to glance at Steve who nods. He strokes his chin and looks back our way before continuing to walk forward. He reaches out his hand and I think he is going to shake Peter's hand but he instead pushes him sideways exposing me. Peter stumbles a little and I instinctively offer him my arm to steady himself. He stops and eyes me examining me head to toe. Seriously why do men look at me like that? Maybe it's this stupid dress!

"And who's this?" he asks in his silky Spanish accent. When no one replies he glances over his shoulder at Steve for the answer.

"Ms Connor, Carla, Mr Barlow's girlfriend" Steve says hesitantly and I suspect Mr tall, dark and handsome doesn't want me here and Steve is in trouble for this. He's so close to me, invading my personal space. He turns and smirks at Peter.

"Very good Mr Barlow, well done" and the tone is almost sarcastic. I'm offended though, what am I? A prize. I scowl, not my prettiest of faces but needs to be done.

Peter bites his tongue, I know he's itching to say or do something but he's as unsure of this man as I am and probably doesn't want to risk it.

It's almost like a stand off, them and us and we are definitely at a disadvantage. Mr tall dark and handsome suddenly grabs my arm. My eyes widen in surprise and he drags me over to the large plush sofa area at the right of the main room by the bar. He throws me down and into the sofa and sits beside me. He snaps his fingers and Steve joins us sitting on my other side pinning me between them. I take a deep breath and go to stand; I straighten my dress and go to take a step forward. A hand grabs my wrist and yanks me back into the seat. I'm not putting up with this and I try to break free again. It's no use they hold me back their arms crossed across me.

"Not very obedient now are you Ms Connor?" he sneers and I remember back to when Steve said the very same.

I look up at Peter he's suddenly being held back by Jim, wow he got angry and was coming over here, he really is my knight in faded leather. Well sometimes.

Jim pushes Peter in our direction as he struggles against his restraining. He's violently pulling away but Jim keeps a tight hold as they reach us. He throws Peter down on the couch opposite from us and places himself beside him. His two new little friends stand observant of us all. A wicked smile creeps across Steve's face and then he laughs. Mr tall, dark and handsome follows suit.

"Now Mr Barlow I have Steve's re-assurance that you are familiar with your first job for us?" he says arching an eyebrow and cocking his head to one side as he awaits Peter's response. Peter nods but has pressed his lips together in a line and is gritting his teeth so he doesn't speak out of term to this man. I realise in that moment I don't even know his name. Does Peter? Did he know that they would be joining us?

Mr tall, dark and handsome suddenly rises to his feet and heads in Peter's direction. He offers out his hand and Peter takes it, standing as they shake. He leans in close and whispers something inaudible in Peter's ear. Steve also stands then grabbing my arm and pulling me violently from the seat. Peter's eyes widen as Mr handsome pulls away. Next thing I know not letting go of his tight grip on me Steve has reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out a gun. He places it against my throat and tilts my head back running the barrel up my throat and digging into the flesh beneath my chin. Peter is alarmed I can tell by his expression, he frowns and he's sweating like mad. What the hell did that man say to him?

I'm tense and Steve has me well and truly restrained and I think he really enjoys holding me hostage like this. The dress has slipped from my shoulders and I'm almost exposed, in fact so much so that if he weren't holding my arms round my back it would probably have slipped to the floor. He pushes me forward and I trip over my own feet, stumble and the gun digs deeper in. Steve decides to change tack and lets my wrists go and firmly repositioning his free arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. He digs the gun in deeper again reaffirming his position and backs up the stairs. I don't fight, I'm not sure if the gun is loaded but I don't want to die. A single tear escapes Peter's eye, it runs quickly down his cheek.

"Carla!" he suddenly yells out to me.

"Don't worry no harm will come to her Mr Barlow as long as you behave and do your job properly" He snarls at Peter just loud enough for me to hear as Steve reaches the upper deck.

Outside the sun is shining bright and it blinds me. Steve twirls us round so his back is to the stairwell and I'm looking out to sea. Not far is the shore of what I can only assume is Playa Blanca as was on the map. Also parallel to our sailing boat is a big white yacht, or a small cruiser. Whatever. I assume it belongs to our new acquaintances.

I stand and take it in it's gorgeous. It's the kind of place I should be lying sipping champagne, not being held captive whilst my boyfriend runs drug errands and god knows what else for the Spanish mafia.

Mr handsome has escorted Peter to top deck accompanied by Jim and the others. Jim comes to Steve and then steps across to the yacht. He pulls the two boats together with ropes and ties them to one another so the sides gently bounce of each other as they meet. Steve then throws me onto the deck of the new boat.

"Take her to the island" orders Mr handsome.

He turns back to Peter, he shouts loud enough for me to hear as Jim unties our boat from the other.

"One slip up and she's dead, do you understand me?"

Peter nods but then loses it. I turn just in time to see him launch himself in Mr Handsome's direction and he jumps out of the path and jumps effortlessly across to our boat. Peter is stopped by the boat edge as the expanse of water increases between us.

Mr Handsome has Peter in the palm of his hand, he has me and as long as he does Peter will do whatever he requires him too. He takes the gun from Steve and pulls me from the deck floor. The dress has slipped further exposing my left breast and he cups it in his hand as he pulls me close into him.

"Don't you dare hurt her!" Peter yells and we can only just hear him.

He strokes the gun down my cheek and then firmly holds it back on my throat. Suddenly I'm gazing across at Peter as he disappears on the horizon, he's dying inside that this has happened I just know but he's smart and he'll save me.

Suddenly I'm pulled away and inside the yacht.

"Carla!" I hear Peter's shout in the distance.

Inside the cabin he holds me up against a wall, he pushes himself against me, he's definitely more intense than Steve. I'm shaking, I'm truly terrified this time, Peter isn't even on the same boat and I don't know when I'll see him again or if I ever will. It's all too much and I burst into tears that cascade down my cheeks.

"Don't cry" I hear the soft silky Spanish accent.

I blink and gaze up through my tears, "too gorgeous to cry" he says as he brushes the tears away of my cheeks with his thumbs. What is it with all these men? Leave me alone!

He kisses me gently at first but increases the pressure as he continues, when I begin to resist he holds me in a tighter grip and fiddles in his pocket. He waves his hand in a gesture to get Jim and Steve to retreat and pins me against the wall with only his hips. I continue to struggle, I may be upset but I refuse to let yet another man take advantage of me. Something sharp impales my side and I gasp. I look up once more and meet his gaze. My eyes are wide and fearful. What has he done?


	14. Chapter 14

I reach down to my side, I don't dare to look, it's cold and I press my hand against it. My mouth has opened and I'm struggling to breathe. Why has he hurt me? Peter hasn't even started any jobs surely he hasn't screwed up already. Mr tall, dark and handsome has stood back, I glance down and in his hand is a knife, only a small blade and a smattering of blood. I swallow hard and as I raise my hand I see the blood.

"What have you done?" I yell at him outraged my body going into shock.

"It's not deep, consider it a warning Carla" He silky says flash of anger in his eyes.

A warning. Warning for what exactly?

Looking down I see the knife has cut the dress and skimmed my side, I'm still bleeding but I don't think it's life threatening. He smiles at me and smugly begins laughing. I don't see what's so amusing I'm bleeding here. He calls out for Jim and Steve and they reappear.

"Jim, see to Ms Connor, have her cleaned up" he barks

He smiles at me his eyes widening. "Now do behave, I don't want to have to harm you further," he continues.

Jim takes my weight and wraps his arm round my waist. I'm in pain from the stab wound and can barely walk.

He walks me into a small bedroom that is on the lowest deck, helping me sit on the edge of bed and then letting go. So the guy has a human side, who knew? I wonder what Steve and his friend are up to on deck. Jim has disappeared and left me, so I peek down at my side again. The bleeding has ceased and it's weeping, I still don't get why he did it? I just don't understand. Jim has returned holding what looks like a bandage and has some bags in his other hand. He kneels by the bed and examines my wound. He pokes at it and I wince, he sees me screwing up my eyes and he stops instantly.

"Remove your dress," he orders in a firm voice. He offers out a hand to help me stand and I struggle to slip the dress down. When it eventually falls and pools at my feet he lefts go and I fall back onto the soft mattress. He wipes the fresh weeping and pulls the backing from the dressing. Placing it over my wound he attaches it with the micro porous tape. He rises and throws the bags at me. "Get dressed," he barks and I sigh, the real Jim is back!

I struggle into these new clothes, it's another stupid dress but this one is more evening like. It's a corset and clings tightly to me pushing against the bandage, ouch. It has a long draping skirt, shorter at the front and longer at the back. I look like a right idiot in this. It's got a glittery bodice and hemming on the skirt and it's white.

I hear noise outside the door and a knock after a few seconds. "Who is it?" I call out but I suspect I know.

"Peter" I hear call back. Peter? My Peter? My heart races they've let him on the boat? When? We never stopped. I walk over to the door and click it open, peering round and smiling as I see him. I examine him closely taking his head in my hands. He's been beaten further and I bite my lip trying to hold back my tears. It's no use; they flow rapidly and bounce down my cheeks.

"You look gorgeous, please don't cry baby," Peter says as he pulls me tight and squeezes me.

I wince as he presses into my bandage. "Carla?" he asks as I whimper from the pain. "What's wrong?" he asks voice full of concern. He holds my arms and steps back from me. He regards me intently his eyes searching mine for an answer. I press my lips together swallowing hard, I don't want to cry out but I'm in pain once more. All the blood drains from my face leaving me pale. "Carla please" Peter begs so I grab my side where the bandage is, it's wet again and both our eyes travel to that area. Peter is speechless.

"He did it," I say quietly nodding in the direction over Peter's shoulder because Mr tall dark and handsome is approaching.

"Do you understand how important it is that you do not mess up this job now Mr Barlow?" he says firmly.

Peter ignores the comment and looks back at my side; it's bleeding again and has seeped through the material of my dress. He puts his hand to my cheek. "Go in there and sit down baby, I need a word with Mr Lopez" Peter explains.

Sitting down I think about it, when did Peter learn of his name. Mr Lopez. I hear raised voices, shouting at each other and I just pray that Peter knows what he's doing. I'm in a daze remembering the last few days, all that has happened and all that will be happening when I'm disturbed by a gunshot.

"Peter!" I yell and stumble to my feet shuffling through the pain to the door. I rest against the doorframe and peer round, Peter is still standing and I let out a sigh of relief. I gaze passed him and Steve is flat on the floor, blood running from his head in Peter's direction. Mr Lopez has the gun pointed down at him.

"So he touched her?" he asks Peter.

Peter scoffs "He did more than touch her mate" he begins and starts shuffling on the spot. "He raped her!" he continues. Mr Lopez however looks angry, fuming even.

"We're almost at shore," he points out calmly breaking the deathly silence that has blanketed the small corridor. He snaps his fingers and Jim leans closer as he whispers something in his ear. Jim grabs Peter and I'm then uncovered and Mr Lopez can see me. "Carla" he says calmly and Peter glances over his shoulder to see me. Jim doesn't stop he pushes Peter forward and out to the top of the stairwell.

"Where are they going?" I ask bravely. I'm fed up of not knowing what's going on.

"Peter's first job" he says smiling at me.

"What have you got him doing?" I probe further.

"Don't you worry your little head, you are coming with me anyway," He explains.

Stepping out of the bedroom I want to see where Peter is. I use my best card and seductively walk towards him, trying my best to block out all the pain I'm in. As I reach him he looks amused, so he should be. Stopping in front of him I still and run a finger down his chest. He's a tall man and I tiptoe to reach his ear.

"Don't mess with me" I whisper and shocking him I push past knocking him into the wall and round up the stairs. Jim and Peter have transferred into a small motorboat and are on their way to shore.

"Peter" I yell out to him

He looks up and stands, the small boat wobbles. "Carla, please do as your told," he yells back but his voice is faint.

Mr Lopez grabs me unexpectedly and I try to shake free of him.

"Don't fight me Carla," he warns

I glare back putting on a brave face but this time I'm scared, terrified even. What will he do to me?


	15. Chapter 15

Mr Lopez pushes me over to the sliding glass door at the back of the yacht. He pins me against it and using his spare hand reaches behind and grabs something from his back pocket. I pray it's not the knife again. Tears begin to develop in my eyes. I glance sideways as he flexes his wrist and a silk scarf unravels. I look back at him and his eyes are burning bright fixed on me. He wraps the scarf around my head and ties it at the back, tight. It digs in and I can't see a thing. My senses are up and on high alert. He shouts something in what I can only assume is Spanish and I hear footsteps make their way out to join us.

"Refrene a Sra Connor, cuando lleguemos a Playa Blanca la toma a la casa de campo en el SUV" I hear clearly. I now wish I knew how to speak Spanish; I mean what's wrong with English? At least that way I sort of knew what was happening. Next thing I know I'm grabbed and pulled back into what I hope is the main cabin. I feel warm heavy breath on my neck and I try to wriggle free of the strong grip. I hear the pull and rip of tape, duct tape. A heavy hand slaps a small piece across my mouth and presses every inch of it firmly against my skin. I scream but it's muffled. The tape pulls again and I feel one end press against my wrists. I fight against it and make it as difficult as possible but they just hold me tighter. I feel the tape going round and round and my wrists rub against each other as I continue to struggle.

"Terminado?" I hear one voice mumble and the other mumble something in response. Great I can't see, I can't talk and I'm still stuck on a stupid boat with no Peter. A phone rings and I can hear it vibrate on the table, no one seems to be answering it. They've sat me down on a sofa area and obviously left me. The phone stops and I hear voices low and muffled. Next thing I know the engine has roared and seems to be in full power. I'm guessing by all the foreign communications that these two idiots only speak Spanish. The only phrase I understood was Playa Blanca, like the map, we must be approaching shore.

The boat suddenly stops and bumps gently against a side. I hear a splash and assuming they are securing the boat. Oh good I'm finally getting off here. I'm suddenly swept from my feet and literally tossed over the shoulder of one of these Spanish 'heavies'. I kick hard against him. I know I was warned to behave but restraining me was so unnecessary. He mumbles something back to his colleague and I hear the familiar pull of the tape as he reaches for my ankles. I kick harder and he struggles to get a grip.

"Ms Connor. I have warned you about your behaviour" I hear Mr Lopez's voice boom from behind.

I stop instantly; tape meeting my ankles and binding them together.

They shuffle about passing me from one to another as they get off the boat. I keep trying to scream but the sound is so muffled. I assume this isn't a busy port, as they seem to be dealing with me as a hostage. 'Beep, Beep' I hear from if I'm not mistaken a BMW. I suspect it's typical mafia style, shiny and black with the tinted windows. I expect to be placed into a seat but I don't hear a door open. I've stopped screaming for long enough to hear the boot pop and be lifted. I feel the impact as I'm thrown in and the boot shuts firmly. All is still for what seems like an eternity. I'm panicked and my heart is now racing, it's thumping against my chest and I bet they can hear it in the car.

The engine roars into life and the car pulls away, tyres screeching against the concrete. It throws me across to the empty boot and I hit the edge. Ouch how fast are they going? I'm pressed against the rear from the effects of going up hill only moving as they hit the odd bump and I roll forward and then back into it. After a long ride the breaks are suddenly slammed on and the engine ceases. All the doors open and slam back shut rocking the car and it lifts as the suspension is relieved of the weight it's been carrying. I hear mumbled voices outside the boot before it is unclipped. I feel very dizzy as I'm lifted from the boot. My head's spinning and I feel terrible, sick even. I'm once again over a shoulder and hear Mr Lopez speak.

"Tome a Sra Connor al cuarto de huéspedes, manténgalo cerró no la permitió fuera de su vista"

In the air is the smell of spice, it's fresh and so different and refreshing from the sea air I've been breathing for days. However it doesn't help me feel any better in fact it makes me worse. I'm hot and bothered, I've sweated in the boot and I'm dehydrated. I haven't had a drink since I was on the original boat and I bet I've lost weight not eating, but that's not a bad thing, got to keep this figure. I close my eyes as my floppy body draped over one of the guy's shoulders is carried about.

I must have blacked out or drifted off. I wake in a bedroom, big open windows barred with heavy iron grills. Heavy wooden doors and big candle filled chandeliers with all dark furniture, very medieval. I'm wrapped in silk sheets on a big four-poster bed and I'm still wearing this evening dress. I go to move, realising I'm still gagged and bound. My eyes wide I scream, it's not like I can do anything else I'm stuck. Tony was more generous than this when he had me tied to my chair and held hostage in my own factory. The Spanish mafia are ridiculous; I'm a businesswoman why can't they just talk to me?

My screaming has paid off as the door flings open and Mr Lopez strolls in. He reaches over me and pulls me up as he sits at the beds edge. Reaching up he strokes the side of my face, hovering and caressing my cheek. Suddenly he rips the small piece of duct tape from my mouth. It pulls at my skin and he does it slowly enjoying the pain he is inflicting. I gasp as I can breathe again and pant as my breathing re adjusts regulating itself.

"You will stay in here, if Mr Barlow is not back tonight after his errand he'll see what happens if he messes with me" He threatens. I go to speak but he raises a finger to my lips.

"Not a word or this will be re-applied" he says waving the dirty worn piece of tape in front of me.

"Ok" I reply choking on my words.

Mr Lopez leans forward and in to kiss me, I turn and he meets my cheek. He places the wet gesture and puts his hand to my chin. He pulls my face back to face him and grins. He stands gently letting go and he walks away.

"Cut me free" I almost order him.

He turns at the door, "No" he bluntly replies and slams the door.

Now what? I just sit here and await my fate? Peter better show tonight or I'll kill him myself.


	16. Chapter 16

I'm determined to escape from these restraints. I must have been working at them all afternoon as outside I can see the sun setting. I've been pulling and twisting my wrists in hope of loosening the tape and so far it's working. If I can break my wrists free my feet won't take a few minutes and I can try and escape. Where my wrists had been partnered palm to palm I have managed to stretch the tape so they're side by side. I claw at the draped tape edge frantically with my fingers. Pulling and tugging it begins to work loose. I wriggle one of my wrists and it slips free. Feeling triumphant I bring my arms to my front. They ache so much. I stretch them out in front of me and pull the remaining band of stretched misshapen tape from my other wrist. Throwing it to one side I pull my knees up to my chest and start picking at my taped ankles. The tape slips against my now sweaty palms and I struggle to pull it away. I take a deep breath and wipe my hands on the bed sheet. Beginning again I find the tape end and pull. It's amazing what you can do with a little adrenaline.

I'm finally free and slide off the bed losing my balance and grabbing one of the posts. Once steady I acquaint myself with my surroundings. I really am quite surprised I've not had a heart attack the way my heart is still thudding away in my chest. My breathing is slow and short as I race around the room trying the windows and doors that lead out to a terrace but they're all locked. I dash into what is an en-suite bathroom and see a small glass window above the toilet. I step onto the lid and try the window but it's also locked. Well they didn't make a good job of restraining me for long I'm sure I can get out of this room. I remember seeing a large blue and white floral vase in the bedroom. Emptying it of its contents I grab it and take it back to the window. I smash it against the glass and it shatters in my hand. Shit!

It has however cracked the glass; reaching for a nearby towel I wrap it around my hand that is now bleeding. I smash it straight through the weakened window and punch out all shards. Letting the towel go it drops to the floor and its now covered in blood. Sweeping the window ledge free of broken glass I push with my palms against it and thrust myself forward and half out of the window. I only just fit and my knees and dress catch on all the shattered glass that remains. Outside is a larger sill and a small patio area. Continuing to crawl out I ungracefully pull myself round and push down from the sill. I breathe in the fresh Mediterranean air. Looking back I see the trail of blood and look down to see my knees and calves. My dress it ripped and tattered and I look like a child who has fallen in the playground and cut their legs.

I tiptoe to the patio edge in my bare feet and glance over wondering if I can jump it and escape. We're high in the hills in what looks like a secluded estate. Below this balcony I can see a longer and bigger patio from a lower level. It has a huge pool and the water sparkles bright blue in the evening sunshine. To the side of the balcony is a pathway leading down from a higher point in the hills and is surrounded by shrubs and wild flowers. I stand and admire the view it really is breath taking, you can even see out to sea and I can't help but wonder if that is the port we arrived at. I'm all too quickly disturbed as I hear raised Spanish voices from inside; they know I'm gone.

I hear Mr Lopez and clattering from the bedroom and bathroom. I begin to climb over the small iron fence surrounding the patio and glance over my shoulder in time to see him at the window. He points and shouts back into his men.

"En el patio, consígala!"

I jump down and feel the impact on the sandy path. I scramble to my feet and begin to run as fast as I can down the path. I don't think I've ever moved so quickly. I pant as I begin to run out of breath. My hair has blown across my face and I continually glance back to make sure I'm not being followed. I reach the ground ends and am met by at least a six-foot wall with spikes and barbed wire above it. I follow it parallel and hear the increased volume of his men getting closer. I eventually reach a huge wrought iron double gate. I tug and pull against it but it's no use it's locked. I admit defeat sinking down and crying on the sandy driveway. I await my fate he's going to be really mad at me for this. I dread to think what will happen.

After a while the voices are much closer, I wonder if maybe I just hide in some of the lavish vines to the side of the drive they won't find me. It's worth a go and I climb behind them. Up at the gate a big 4x4 car is approaching. I peer through and see them all crowded round the gates as they slowly swing open. Mr Lopez is thundering down the path and he looks furious.

"Dónde está ella?" I hear him ask the guard.

He shrugs and then replies. Mr Lopez relaxes and I assume he's just told him I must still be here somewhere. He shouts something back at them all and they scatter as the car enters. I gasp as I see Peter appear from the car. He's not in as bad of a state as I thought he may be but he's been roughed up some more. He's so tough I'm surprised his body hasn't given out.

Mr Lopez pats him on the back and shakes his hand. Jim whispers something to him and he grins at Peter. "Good job Mr Barlow" he congratulates him shaking his hand once more. "Come inside and have a drink, we'll go through the details of your next mission" he continues.

"Where's Carla?" asks Peter

"Well Mr Barlow you see I don't know.." He starts but Peter grabs Mr Lopez's jacket lapels before he can finish.

"What have you done to her Rafael?" He spits through gritted teeth.

Jim goes to pull him off but Peter shakes him free and he backs off.

"Mr Barlow, I was keeping her safe and well she decided to run away, but don't you worry my men are out looking for her" he says with a big grin. On that note Peter lets go and they head inside.

I let out a deep breath and wonder if maybe I should creep back up and into the house. Just as I'm contemplating taking the first step someone grabs my arm in a tight grip. It's Jim.

He tugs me from the vines and shouts to the other guards in Spanish. I take it he's telling them to call off the search. How the hell did he know I was there? Did he see me?

My feet pad along and I catch my toes on the hot sand pathway of the drive as Jim drags me back to the house. He walks through the foyer and my feet are grateful of the cold, soothing marble beneath them. Out on the terrace I saw earlier with the pool sit Peter and Rafael on iron garden furniture with big cushions. Glasses of whisky on the table and papers spread around them. Rafael gazes up when he sees us coming. "You found her" he yells over and Peter turns to see me being molested by Jim as he whirls me in front of him and then pushes me forward with brute force. I land at their feet on the slate tiles. I stop and catch my breath for a few seconds before scrambling to my knees. Peter instantly rises from his seat and offers out his hand to help me up. I reach for him but Rafael moves to come between us and crouches down. Aggressively he grabs my face digging his long fingers into my cheeks.

"I warned you" he spits and pulls a gun from inside his jacket pocket. He puts it to my temple and lifts me to my feet, pulling me by my hair. I cry out in pain as tears that have freshly formed begin to fall.

"Stop!" yells Peter. "You said if I did this job you wouldn't harm her, please she's just scared," he pleads with Rafael.

He holds me for a few minutes before releasing me and flinging me in Peter's direction.

"You have ten minutes to make her understand how important it is that she do as she is told or I'll kill her" he orders and Peter nods in agreement as he catches me in his arms before I hit the ground again.

He walks away and leaves us on then patio. I think Peter just saved my life. Again.


	17. Chapter 17

Peter holds me at arms length and examines me with his eyes. I look awful, dirty face, messy hair, bruised wrists, cuts all over my hands and knees, ripped dress and my battered feet covered in dirty sand. He looks concerned as his eyes glide back up and meet my teary eyes.

"Oh Baby" he says pulling me into an embracing cuddle as I sob into his shoulder and grip his shirt tight.

Jim coughs from the door way and we step back from each other. I try to compose myself and wipe the tears from my face with the back of my hand.

Peter's voice is a whisper as Rafael emerges from the villa; "You must do as he says baby" His tone stays firm. I nod in agreement and gently sniff.

"So.." Rafael begins clasping his hand's together and giving a tight smile. He gestures his hand out and Peter and I take our seats. "Ms Connor, you going to behave now?" he asks and I nod not giving him eye contact.

He snaps his fingers and Jim steps forward laying a map out in front of us. Marked with a black ring is Puerto del Carmen. They talk amongst themselves in Spanish as Peter and I look at each other confused and anxious. Rafael settles back into his chair and then waves Jim away. He steps back and waits at the main doors back into the villa. Clearing his throat Rafael looks in Peter's direction.

"This one is an important job, you will be meeting some Russian friends of mine, and they have a package for you to bring to me. Don't get caught," he explains.

My eyes widen don't get caught, what exactly are they making him do? I don't want to stay behind, I want to go with Peter. I look at him, come on say something make them let you take me. Peter nods and takes a sip of his freshly topped up whisky that has been placed on the table. Rafael relaxes when he sees Peter push back in his chair and relax also. Why does all this worry me? Am I the only one?

"I want to go with Peter," I suddenly blurt out.

They both turn to look at me. Rafael narrows his eyes as he waits to see how Peter handles this. Placing his glass back on the table Peter takes my hand. He smiles at me and he's going to tell me no but I can tell he doesn't want to because he knows how I will react. He takes a deep breath.

"No Carla you can't, you're safer here and please do as your told. I promise this will all be over soon," he explains but he can't help the nervousness in his voice.

I scowl and pout my lips I don't feel safe with these animals. "Peter" I plead but he has no time to reply before Rafael butts in. "Yes Carla you should listen to Peter, you are safe here"

I'm angry, this is ridiculous Peter promised me an adventure but I did not leave Weatherfield for all this. I will make my point clear. I stand furiously and my chair topples backwards hitting the stone patio area. Both of them stare up at me. It's suddenly got dark and there is a small chill in the air. I fold my arms across me and hug myself tightly. I throw a tight-lipped frown in Peter's direction and storm off. Knocking into Jim as I barge past him and head inside. To my right is a living area and to my left is a long corridor. I stop and make a decision; left it is. I creep down the corridor and try a few of the doors. The last on the right is a bathroom so I enter. There's a mirror above the basin and take a long look at the tired girl who stares back. Who is she? I'm mad that Peter hasn't instantly come after me surely he knows I'm upset or is the whisky and dodgy deals too good to miss?

I stand swallowing hard trying to hold back my tears but it's no use they begin to flow. I sob uncontrollably as I sink to the floor. What is wrong with Peter? Why would he put me through this and how the hell does he know Spanish mafia? I wonder what the package is that Peter has to bring here but I bet it's dangerous as he's not to be caught. More drugs probably. My mind races through what could happen to him on one of these 'errands'.

Suddenly I'm disturbed from my thoughts by a knock on the door. "Ms Connor" I hear Jim's familiar voice boom. He rattles the handle but I've locked the door. I hear him scrambling at the lock and it clicks open but I don't care. I let him stroll in and lift me from the floor. Ungracefully he pushes me forward and out of the door. Peter and Rafael have retreated to the living area I past earlier. I stand before them relaxed in to the big leather chairs and Rafael flashes me that evil grin.

"Here she is Mr Barlow, you can have her for the night but keep her in line and do not try anything stupid" he warns.

What he is actually letting us spend a night together? My heart melts I'm so relieved, I have so missed having Peter with me for the four nights we have been living this nightmare. Peter thanks him and stands, straightens his shirt and walks over to me. He takes my hand and squeezes it. We follow Jim up the stairs and he leads us to a guest room, opening the door Peter gestures for me to go first. I oblige and step in where I'm met by a large bed and it's covered with silk sheets and lots of scattered cushions. There is a large patio door and a large window the other side of the room. The chandelier is dim and creates shadow in the sparsely decorated room.

Jim bids us goodnight and shuts the door locking it. I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed. I should be happy but I'm not. What more do I want? I have Peter, yes maybe only for one night but I should make the most of it. I bow my head as I become teary once more. Peter rushes over to me and sits beside me. "Carla please don't cry" he starts. I turn my head away from him. "Come on you're just tired, lets get you bathed and to bed" he says.

I sniffle and shake my head. He puts an arm around me and pulls me close. I can't be bothered to fight him I really have grown weak in the last few days it's taken all I have. He squeezes me tightly as I give in and turn to him putting my arms round his waist and gripping tight.

"Why didn't you tell him to let me go with you?" I muffle into his chest as he gently strokes my dry knotted hair.

"It's not safe for you but don't worry I'm sorting it. Now how about that bath?" he asks again.

I nod in agreement and he slips away from me. I watch as he disappears into the en-suite bathroom and I hear the tap turn and the fast stream of water hit the porcelain tub. Steam emerges from the bathroom as Peter comes back to the main room. He helps me stand and helps me out of this ridiculous, ruined dress. He tosses it over to the small chair in the corner and turns back to me. He lifts me in his arms and I grasp round his neck to keep myself upright. Gently he slips me into the hot soapy water, my body instantly relaxes with the aroma of the bath oil. I close my eyes and lean back as Peter retreats to the bedroom. As I relax into and begin to enjoy my bath I drift back to home, the memories of us when he realised he loved me. That first night he stayed over, him watching me sleep and that lovely walk in the park. I take a deep cleansing breath and splash my face. I sink down and under the water letting it wash over me.

I emerge at least forty minutes later wrapped in a soft fluffy white towel. Peter is sat on the bed with his back to me so I creep over and sit on the bed. I think I startle him as I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. He lets out a deep relieved breath when he turns and sees me smiling back.

"What's that?" I ask innocently pointing to the envelope in his hand.

"Oh nothing" he says shrugging and places it in the draw beside the bed.

He reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it up and over his head. He throws it to me.

"Put that on" he says and I wonder what has happened to our bags as I haven't seen them since the first boat.

I do as he says and the warm cotton brushes my fresh skin. I love how it smells of Peter. Standing he removes his jeans and then reaches for the corner of the bed sheet. Throwing it back he climbs in and props himself up on his elbow to face me. I smile and climb in beside him; the cool sheets feel so nice against my legs. He places an arm across me, my back to his chest and pulls me in tight to him. He pushes my hair back over my shoulder to reveal my neck and places a gentle loving kiss as my eyes close and I fall asleep instantly.


	18. Chapter 18

I'm startled from my peaceful sleep by the smashing of glass and gunfire. I bolt up from the bed and frantically reach round clawing at the warm bed sheets beside me as my eyes adjust to the dark. No sign of Peter so I call out for him but my words just echo in the empty room. I shuffle over to the bedside and desperately search for the switch to the bedside light. Flicking it I screw up my eyes as they reject the brightness. Blinking as I open my eyes I see the big wooden door has been hacked through with what looks like an axe and opened wide. It leads out to a fully blackened corridor. Truth be told I'm frightened to move. I listen intently as I hear the slamming of car doors and engines revving from outside. Kicking off the sheets I rush to the window and see Rafael and Jim held at gunpoint and being bundled into the back of a big 4x4 car but where is Peter?

I sense something is wrong and turn to leave the room in search of answers. Reaching the doorframe I'm stopped in my tracks as a tall man appears before me. He grabs my hair before I get a chance for a good look at him and drags me into the darkness. I pull against him trying my best to fight with my free arms and kick with my legs. I hear him huff and puff before swiftly lifting me and throwing me over his shoulder. This doesn't stop me and I continue resisting. He makes his way out of the villa as I scream and pound his back with my fists but he doesn't flinch.

We've reached the car and he flings open a car door throwing me into the back seat and slamming the door shut immediately. I hit the leather seat with a thud and realise I'm not alone. There is a driver in the driving seat and I shuffle myself up in the seat and move to the edge. Peering up and through my lashes I see a man beside me on the back seat but I don't recognise him. He is staring at me with wide blazing eyes and he looks dangerous. My heart beats rapidly against my chest and breathing is unsettled and heavy. I don't look him in the eye but see a flash of a gun from his inside jacket pocket as he turns in his seat. Panicking I reach for the door handle and pull at it but its no use it's locked. I thump against the window with my palms hoping it will help. All of a sudden a cloth covers my mouth and nose and I cough as he holds it tight to my face. My eyes roll and I begin to feel dizzy, my eyelids drop and after only a few minutes I'm gone.

I finally come round and as I flicker my eyes open I see Peter opposite me. He is tied to a big padded chair and he has tape over his mouth. I try to concentrate on what I see before me but my thoughts are cloudy. I look down at myself and I'm also restrained but I can breath so I've not been gagged like poor Peter. I slide my eyes to my left; Rafael, Jim and the other heavies from the house are also tied up in double seats. My surroundings look familiar but I'm so confused and can't quite place where I am. The seats beside Peter and myself are empty. I mumble out "Where am I?" hoping someone can fill in the blanks. The last thing I remember clearly was waking up alone and it was dark. I sit and try to collect my thoughts. Come on Carla remember I will myself.

The sound is muffled but I hear footsteps from behind. Suddenly someone takes a seat next to me. I turn round sheepishly and look at him for answers. I cough my throat is extremely dry. "Drink?" he asks and I nod in response. He snaps his fingers and a leggy blonde brings over a crystal cut tumbler and a crystal whisky bottle. She places the glass in front of me on a small tray table and pops the top from the bottle. The gorgeous whisky aroma fills the small space and I'm dying for it. The glass clinks against each other as she pours a thick continuous stream of poison into the glass. I bite my lip in anticipation.

He lifts the glass and puts it to my lips, I sip as he raises it and the whisky teases my taste buds and slips familiarly down my throat. I've drunk the whole glass before he pulls it away. "You have an appetite for that" he says smirking proudly. Damn why do I keep giving in? They all know just how to get too me but how? Does alcoholic go on a public record somewhere!

"Where am I?" I try to ask again

"Ms Connor my friend over there owes me a favour, I did have a package for him but I delivered it in person. You and Mr Barlow here are mostly a bonus prize" he says wickedly.

He's one of the Russian's; yes I can tell by the accent. I try once more for an answer.

"Where am I?" I ask again feeling groggier than I was before.

"On my private jet" he replies.

I nod but haven't really taken in what he has said. What on earth is wrong with my body? I look back to Peter he's beginning to stir mumbling and pulling against his restraint. I wonder where we are going by jet it can't be far surely.

Peter's eyes suddenly flash open and he glares forward. He looks wound up but confused I wonder if he knows what is happening.

Mr Russian raises from his seat grabs my glass and heads to the back of the jet. I look lovingly at Peter I search his eyes with mine trying to read his thoughts. I mouth to him that I'm scared and his eyes smile back helping me to relax. Swirling the now refilled glasses Mr Russian re-appears. He places a glass firmly in front of me and the other Peter.

"I'm going to untie you now, if you fight or try anything I will kill her" he says reaching for the first of the ropes holding Peter's wrist firmly to the chair. Peter is surprisingly calm given the situation. When he's finished with Peter he rips the tape from his mouth in one violent sweep. Peter gasps at the pain and takes a deep breath.

"Drink" orders the Russian and Peter must be desperate because he swallows the contents in one gulp. He smirks and lets out a small laugh before turning his attention to me. He reaches down and removes my restraints also. "Drink" he orders me and I reach for the glass but I'm stopped before I take my first sip. Peter looks at me and nods for me to go ahead and drink. Rude not to so I gulp at my whisky in a very un-ladylike manner.

Mr Russian looks pleased he sits and turns to us both. "I will let you go once we reach Russia, I am only interested in them" he says nodding his head back in the direction of Rafael and his gang. Peter sighs and thanks him and all this time we were thinking the Russians would be dangerous. As soon as we are free I suggest we go home to Weatherfield! The atmosphere is no longer tense but I really do not feel one hundred percent myself. I'm assuming that they only kidnapped us because they thought we were part of Rafael's gang.

With the permission of Mr Russian Peter takes the seat beside me and puts his arm around me. "See baby I told you it would all be ok" his voice low and gentle. Reaching up he strokes my hair and I nestle against his neck.

"You ok?" he asks placing his head on top of mine.

"I'm…I'm very tired" I explain my eyelids drooping again. Maybe if I sleep I won't feel so muddled and confused I give into my eyes and let them close. I hear distant muffled voices and can hear Peter's rapid heartbeat as I fall asleep.

I awake with a shiver; Peter is holding me tight in his arms and close to him. He's sat in a corner and the air is cold, he rocks back and forth whispering to himself until he realises I am now back with him. He takes a deep breath and smiles at me.

"Peter where are we?" I mumble

"I don't know" he says nervously.

I wriggle free of his grasp and sit up, sliding from his lap and setting myself on the floor beside him. We're alone in a concrete shell, locked bolted door and no windows. It's cold and damp on fact it looks like a prison cell.

What on earth I thought the Russian was letting us go?


	19. Chapter 19

Pulling up my knees to my chest I hug them close. I'm still only wearing Peter's t-shirt and it's certainly not keeping me warm. I shiver again and look down at my numb fingers cupping my knees. They're practically blue. I'm shaking and rocking myself back and forth. Peter has turned to me and he's crying, the last time I saw Peter cry like this was when Simon left with Leanne. He wipes his tears when he sees me looking up at him; he eyes me hugging myself and rubs his hand along my goose pimpled arm. His touch is warm compared to my body temperature. He doesn't say a word but fumbles quickly out of his leather jacket and places it round me pulling it tight.

"It'll be ok baby" he tries to reassure me as I bow my head and start sobbing again. In the last year I think I've cried more than I've cried all my life. I look back up at him with a blank expression.

"You said that before" I suddenly yell at him. "What the hell is going on Peter?" I continue

"Carla please I…" he stops looking at me. I'm raging and angry I know he knows exactly what is going on and if he thinks by not telling me he's protecting me then he is wrong.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out in a teary tone.

I continue to glare at him sorry is not good enough I want answers.

"Peter! I want answers you know exactly what is going on. In fact I bet you know how we ended up here don't you" I scream at him my voice echoing round our little cell.

"Carla please I'm sorry I just can't tell you, I don't want you getting involved in it," he answers as he reaches for my hand. At his touch I pull away and shuffle across the cold concrete floor increasing the space between us.

"Carla, baby please I'm trying to protect you" He says shuffling as he tries to close the gap I've created.

"Protect me?" I answer through gritted teeth as I try desperately not to burst the dam of tears.

He smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder, it's unwelcome and I shake him off.

"Please Carla" he tries again.

We sit silently for a few minutes my mind replaying that last phrase. _'Carla, baby please I'm trying to protect you' _I scoff louder than I thought and Peter looks in my direction.

"Protect me? Protect me from what?" I ask him snottily.

He looks shocked at my reaction. "I want you to tell me what the hell is going on?" I order as I choke on my words.

He looks back at me eyes wide. Yes Peter that's right you will tell me.

"I…we…. well ok we're here because that Russian lied. I knew he was lying I still owe Rafael and the gang and we're involved now, we're a liability they won't let us go" he says bowing his head. I can tell he's relieved to have that off his chest.

"So now what?" I ask as a single tear escapes. I really was looking forward to getting away from this all and just enjoying a well-deserved rest with the man I love.

"I have a debt to pay" he shrugs as he answers

I look at him searching for more but he just smiles and shrugs itching ever closer to me and eventually wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close.

"Please Peter do you know what is going to happen to us?" I try for a different tact. I'm hopeful he has an answer anything will do as long as he doesn't tell me it's going to be ok because it most definitely is not. He stays silent and strokes my hair as I rest my head on his shoulder. I suppose I should be grateful that we get to spend some time together.

I'm still cold and my skin has gone deathly pale. I have goose pimples all over my bare legs and arms and my bottom has gone numb from the cold damp floor. I can barely feel my frozen fingers and toes but I appreciate Peter trying his best to share his body heat and keep me warm. All I want to do is close my eyes; maybe if I sleep I will feel warmer. My heart is thudding away but I'm having difficulty concentrating. I go to lift my hand to hold Peter's but I just can't, it slides off my lap and touches a small puddle on the concrete floor.

"Carla?" Peter asked but his voice sounds mumbled to me.

I try to speak but slur my words instead.

Peter places his hand under my chin and lifts my head so his eyes meet mine. My eyes are glazed as I look at Peter and see him as though I'm looking through a kaleidoscope.

"Carla, come on baby stay awake, come on" I hear again the sound unclear and muffled. I think Peter is crying but I'm not sure. He shakes me but I can barely feel it as my whole body has now gone numb. I'm struggling to keep my eyes open as Peter props me against the wall.

I hear him struggle to his feet and head for the door, he pounds against it with his fist and I hear him call out.

"Help, Come on let us out she's not well in here" and he shouts this on repeat but no one comes to our rescue.

I cough violently and Peter rushes back to my side. I've slipped and am laying at an odd angle my head resting uncomfortably on the damp brickwork. My eyes open and close like elevator doors as I gaze up at Peter but he is now just a black blur, shadow like even. I hear him struggle out of his t-shirt and feel him remove the leather jacket. Pulling up my lifeless body he sits me against the wall and I can't feel a thing. Getting me in a tight grip he struggles to get the t-shirt over my floppy head.

"Hang in there Carla, you need layers" He says lifting each of my lifeless heavy arms and gets them into the t-shirt. He pulls it down and over the already damp top I'm wearing and then reaches for his leather jacket. He pushes my arms into the sleeves as he wraps it round me. It drowns me it really is too big but it is helping keep me warm.

"Talk to me baby keep your brain active" but I don't say anything back instead I close my eyes. Peter's muffled voice shouts out again as he scoops me into his arms and holds me close to his body.

"Help! Someone anyone? Please help!" He shouts with all his energy.

He is breathing rapidly as he focuses back on me tightening his grip and holding my close to him. I feel the vibration as he shudders violently; he's getting cold too.

"Help!" he tries again at the top of his voice.

He whispers down to me "Stay with me baby, Carla say something" but I don't have the energy to reply. My eyes are firmly closed as I rest against Peter feeling my whole lifeless body begin to shut down.

Footsteps are distant but definitely heading our way. I'm only just conscious enough to hear the heavy door open. The footsteps are louder now as they enter the room. I hear only Peter's voice, the words he speaks of no meaning to me. I am suddenly lifted by my arm and dragged from Peter's embrace. I can't stand as I fall and hit the floor my arm held above my head in a tight grip. My head spins and feels detached from my body as it violently falls back over the side of the cradled arms I'm now held in. The last thing I hear is the door slam and Peter's distant voice call out for me as the footsteps carry me away.


	20. Chapter 20

'_I see him there just lying all tubes and lifeless as paramedics surround him. Steve tells us he's no longer alive. I've blocked out everything else, I can't breathe. My eyes are wide with shock and full of pain as I sink to the ground. Liam he can't be, he just can't not my leebugs. Dead. No. I can't even comfort my choked up sister-in-law at the hospital I can't believe my last words to him were I don't love you. I lied Liam. I lied I do love you; I love you with all my heart. That's when the drinking started oh leebugs I miss you everyday and I begin to cry. The image of Liam cold haunts me in nightmares'_

Semi conscious I still feel cold and I'm kicked up enough to hear the mumbling voices that surround me. I only understand the odd word 'medical assistance' for one. Who needs medical attention? Peter? Oh god what's happened. I feel my eyelids twitch as I slowly become more conscious. I've only been asleep and dreaming, why won't I wake? Something bad must have happened, I pray to stay conscious long enough to hear but nothing is of much meaning to me.

'_Liam's words that night they replay over and over in my head. I wish I'd listened just left with him, run away. Trev has just left me and that stupid Peter Barlow tries to tell me I have a drink problem. No way I just had one to many with me lunch why does he have to interfere? I'm not his problem. Leanne is going to love this her precious Peter running around after me. I pick up the wine bottle and poor myself another. I want Liam, I miss Liam, I love Liam time to drown my sorrows and I take big gulps from the glass as I intoxicate my body to numb the pain'_

I find myself listening to my surroundings once more still only semi conscious. I can only just feel the light touch of a hand reaching out and holding mine. I will my eyes to open and my hand too squeeze the hand holding it but my body fails me. "Will she be ok doctor?" I hear a faint mumble of a voice I think I recognise. A muffled mumble is given in response to the question "Hypothermia, Ms Connor will need a few days rest and to be kept warm…." But that is all I hear. 'Hypothermia!' Just great.

"Mr Barlow, come it is time" I hear. Peter, he's here! I will myself to speak, open my eyes anything. I faintly feel Peter's hand slip away from mine. I try to speak. Come on Carla just open your mouth. Speak to him. Words fail me and I'm so angry. He places a delicate kiss on my temple and whisper into my ear. "Hang in there, baby, I love you and I'll see you soon" His hand runs down my cheek before his familiar touch is gone. 'See me soon! Peter where are you going?' 

'_Peter reaches for me, he's adamant this is all his fault he shouldn't have lead me on. I feel so stupid, why on earth would he want me? Drunk and now a criminal charged with drink driving. I know I'll lose my licence, I'm so stupid I can't believe he has this affect on me. I'm mad for him I want him he reminds me of Liam when he's sweet like this.'_

'_He's gone home to Leanne and now I really do miss Liam. Oh just imagine how wonderful it would be if he were still here, loving me, looking after me. I think I love Peter the same way but he's not Liam. Liam were my life, no wait Liam is my life. A single tear trickles down my cheek, tickling my skin. I can't do it I need a drink!'_

My eyelids are heavy still, I'm desperate to look around, see where I am, who is with me and long to know where Peter is. He's all I have right now and I need to be his rock, support him. At the train station when Simon chose Leanne again, that's when I saw it Peter's heart literally snapped. Simon is his world, his reason for living. Poor Peter and in that moment I think I feel a stray tear escape my body.

"This is progress, a tear, this could show brain activity increasing and she could wake at anytime" I hear a mumbled foreign accent explain followed by a response in a language I don't understand.

'_I'm making my way swiftly through this bottle of Shiraz, sorry Frank but no time to share with you I'm upset with Peter for not loving me and I really don't want to marry you. Think Carla, you can get out of this. We've already had Peter at the table and trust Frank to offer him a glass of champagne. Then seeing him outside god he's wound me up. Oh and Frank's mum she is so annoying smiling and planning our future in her mind. Grand children ha who does she think I am? Leanne. 'You're drunk…I can see why Peter chose Leanne he's seen you like this hasn't he?' He had no right I can't stand him I'm leaving. That feeling in the car that surge of anger, appetite for destruction and then Frank interfering like Peter does. 'Carla look out. Brake, Brake' I hear the screech of the wheels as I swerve hitting Stella. Crash.'_

My eyes burst open and I gasp for breath. I'm alive; ok was just a bad memory. When I register that I'm now back conscious a tall dark haired man is stood over me examining me closely. "Ms Connor, how are you feeling?" he asks and I recognise the tone from earlier. My breathing is rapid from the flashback, adrenaline pumping round my body and the cold sweat I have broken out. "Peter" I mumble. It's all I can manage I want to see Peter to know he is ok.

"Mr Barlow is not available at this moment Ms Connor, please answer my question how do you feel?" he asks again. I note he is wearing a long white coat. Medical assistance, yes I remember from earlier. It's me I'm the one who needs the help, why what has happened to me?

"Cold" I reply in a whisper.

He nods and reaches across for another blanket. Hypothermia, yes I remember that too from earlier the muffled voices. I can feel my body shivering and I wonder how long I will feel like this. The doctor has told me to rest, I don't have much choice I have little to no energy. Although in an unfamiliar place I find it easy to close my eyes and before I know it I'm asleep again.

"Will she be ok?" That's Peter I recognise his voice.

"Peter" I call though my voice strained as I hear the doctor explaining my condition and situation to him. He hurries to my side and I lift my eyelids open just enough for me to see him though through blurred vision. He takes my hand and squeezes it gently as he did earlier. I try to squeeze back but my hand only gently grips. Lifting it to his mouth I can feel his intense warm breath against my ice-cold skin. Placing a tender kiss upon my knuckles he keeps the back of my hand close to him pulling it in and holding it in front of him before placing his other hand up and round encasing it. I look up at him from my resting place.

"Where are we Peter?" I mumble still feeling unfamiliar with my new surroundings.

"Still Russia, but don't worry I have another job to do for Rafael and he is going to move us to Spain with him so I can work of my debt." He explains so calmly.

My heart races, Spain with Rafael I don't want to. I want to go home to my flat, my factory, family and friends. Tears begin again I can't do this; I know Peter needs me too but it's just too much. Haven't I been through enough? Peter gazes down at me and releases my hand with his thumb he wipes away my tears.

"Please don't cry" he asks choking up himself.

This isn't his fault and I really do want to support him. Ok suppose I can try, no I will try for Peter's sake and because I do love him. Before I can mumble my thoughts out loud Peter's hand is snatched away from mine as two stocky men pull him away. He kicks and struggles, shouting at them to get off but their grip is intense he has no chance.

"What the hell?" He yells.

"The boss is adamant to see you Mr Barlow" one of them says wickedly as the backs of Peter's trainers catch on the hard wood floor he's kicking against in protest.

Peter what have you done now?


	21. Chapter 21

I still feel quite weak and it seems like Peter has been gone hours but in reality it's only been about five minutes. My mind runs through all sorts as I try to work out what he's done. It must be serious he seemed to be in a lot of trouble. My eyes are heavy and I'm tired, stifling a big yawn I give in and shut them. Maybe if I have a little nap Peter will be back when I wake.

My eyes flutter open and a shape of man sits beside me. He's holding my hand tightly as Peter had before. In my peripheral vision I can see it's not Peter but Mr Russia himself. They very man who promised to set me free and then called for my Peter because he had obviously messed up his mission. He has a tight grip although his hand is sweaty. I cough not sure he is aware that I have awoken. He turns to face me; I think I interrupted some thoughts he was having.

"Carla" he says the words rolling off his tongue like he says my name a million times a day.

My drawn eyes stare up at him, teary because I want to know what has become of Peter, why he hasn't returned to my side? I summon up the courage to ask of him.

"Peter" it is the only word I can mumble. I want to ask more and try to will myself but its no use words fail me again.

"Mr Barlow is okay Ms Connor do not worry about him" he says as if reading my thoughts. "You need to focus on your rest and getting well, I have an important job for you" he continues.

Job for me? What the…? Oh my head, it feels so light, rush of blood I'm guessing. Mr Russia snaps his fingers and the doctor from earlier joins us. He starts examining me starting by shining a light from a torch in my eyes. He moves along checking my heart rate and temperature. As he listens through his stethoscope to my heartbeat he begins to frown. In Russian, Mr Russian speaks to the doctor, although I don't understand I assume he's asking what is wrong. The doctor obligingly replies and I'm guessing for my benefit it's in English.

He says I have a slower heart rate than normal and that my body temperature has not yet returned to normal but I'll be ok with the right medication. They nod at each other as in agreement and the doctor rushes over to a cupboard on the other side of the room. I see him take a few bottles and a bag of fluids and place them on the top. Coming back over to the bedside he assess the surroundings. In his right hand is the fluids and his left the hook to hang it but here's the catch this is no hospital and there is no stand. He improvises using a light fitting to my right and once securely in place he starts connecting it up to my arm. I've been in the hospital before but this doesn't seem right somehow. I begin to feel very drowsy and sweat. Pouring me a glass of water and making me take a sip he shakes free a few pills from their plastic container. What are those? I keep my lips closed and shake my head refusing to take them. He tuts and shakes his head. "Come on now Ms Connor be a good girl and take your medication." Mr Russia prompts as the doctor pushes his hand firmly against my mouth trying to force the medication.

In an angry tone they talk back and forth in Russian. I stick to my guns and try to fight against the doctor with what little energy I have not convinced he is legit. Whatever he has hooked up to me is making me worse it's certainly not fluids. I hear whispers exchanged between Mr Russia and Jim who has magically appeared from nowhere. God he knows them all, I can't help but wonder who he actually works for? Is he freelance? Oh this is so confusing who's with whom? I see out of the corner of my eye Jim leaving and my mind races as to what he is up to. I lose focus for just a moment after flinging my head in Mr Russian's direction and the doctor manages to slip one of the pills passed my lips. My eyes widen in alarm and a grin creeps across Mr Russian's face. Holding the medication in my mouth I try to spit it out but the doctor keeps his hand firmly in place across my lips. I won't swallow it; no I just won't do it. I wish I had the energy to lift by hand and fight him off but what little energy I seemed to have is slowly draining away from me. The doctor curls his fingers on his left hand around the pills so as not to drop any and pinches my nose between his free index finger and thumb. My breath doesn't hold for long before I open my mouth gasping for air. Seeing his opportunity the doctor switches hand's re grabbing my nose with his right. It gives me a moment to try again to hold my breath. He is patient and waits from me to open my mouth again.

As he pushes the remaining pills into my dry mouth I hear the door click open and scuffling as someone enters. I fight against my body desperately trying to sit up and see what is happening but the doctor pushes me back down into the mountain of pillows.

"Get off me, get off" I hear as the visitors to the room come nearer.

I'm getting more and more distant by the second but as I still gasp for air the pills have slid to the back of my throat and I begin to choke. I feel the cool water on my lips as the doctor forces me to drink. I have no choice with my head tipped so far back and end up swallowing the pills but what are they?

Before me at the end of the bed stands Peter I gasp when I see him, he only has bruised cheek, I expected worse. My breathing is shallow and rapid, head spins what on earth are they pumping into my system. Why have they bought Peter in? I thought he was in trouble. I speak out but my speech is slurred and inarticulate. I want Peter; I want to feel safe, I want for him to hold me. My eyes narrow as they react to the light in the room, I suddenly don't want them on I want it dark. "The lights" I mutter and they look at me puzzled.

"Please the lights I don't." I try again slurring my words and unable to finish my sentence.

I think Peter understands me as he shouts for them to turn out the lights. Mr Russian shouts to Jim and we are plunged into darkness. I can now see nothing and begin to calm down, that was really strange I've never felt like that before I'm convinced it is this medication, they're up to something. Faint whispers break me away from my thoughts and I strain to hear but am struggling to comprehend what's being said. All I know is I can hear Peter's voice and it sound's desperate.

I feel a soft index finger run the length of my face. I stir gently my eyes gently blinking open to the darkness. I feel drained and so empty. A soft kiss is placed upon my cheek. I know that kiss its loving and tender. "Peter" I mumble sleepily.

"I'm here baby," he says reassuringly and I hear his fingers fumble against the bedside lamp and he looks for the switch. I screw my eyes as the fresh light invades the room. After a few seconds I open up my eyes and there he is, Peter Barlow, that gorgeous man who loves me, even though he hurts me and has put me in danger. From what I can see we are alone. All dazed and disorientated I gaze up at him.

"Sleep with me Peter" I whisper all breathy and feeling exhausted.


	22. Chapter 22

"Carla I can't you need to rest," he says smiling down at me.

"Did you do something wrong?" I ask Peter realising that I never found out why he had had to see Mr Russian so urgently.

"No Baby, he was discussing a new job with me" he replies but I'm not convinced, he's lying.

"Please sleep with me" I beg Peter. All I want is to feel his warmth, his strong arms holding me and just to feel safe even if it is just for the one night. Don't know what he's scared of this is a double bed there is plenty of room.

I turn on my puppy dog, wide teary eyes, come on Peter. He sighs and licks his upper lip nervously.

"Ok, ok Carla please don't look at me like that!" he teases playfully as he gives into my demands.

As he pulls back the bed sheets he causes a draft and I shiver. My skin has gone hot and clammy but I feel cold still. I welcome Peter's warmth as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. I can feel his jeans against my legs and they scratch but I don't care I just want him to stay close.

"Peter?" I ask after a while to check he's not sleeping. He grumbles in a response. "Can we talk?" I ask hastily.

"What about? He asks sleepily re-adjusting behind me.

"All this" I answer. Poor Peter he must be so tired.

"Carla not now, please! You get your rest and I promise in the morning I'll explain," He says again through a yawn.

I nod and he squeezes me as if to say thank you.

I'm struggling to settle despite the fact I'm groggy, I thrash about in Peter's arms trying to get comfortable. I'm still all linked up to the dodgy fluids; I think they are making me this way. I claw at the plastic holding the needle into my arm but my fingers are limp and cannot grip and pull. Fumbling with it I knock it and scream out in pain whilst tears form in my eyes. Peter is disturbed and at the sound of my screams wakes and bolts upright reaching and scrambling for the light switch. Finding it he flicks it and light once again floods the room.

"Hey, hey what's wrong darling? Carla?" he asks taking my shoulder and turning me so I'm flat on my back. I can barely breathe my lips trembling and my body shivering as I look warily up at Peter. I can't speak lost for words. I think my body is in shock. Peter looks me up and down trying to figure out what is wrong and then his eyes fix on my arm where I have now knocked the needle completely from my arm.

"Carla" he cries as he tries to calm me and get me to regulate my breathing. As I still and catch my breath the tears that formed run down my cheeks. Peter places an arm behind me and lifts me as he props the pillows against the headrest and then places me back gently so I'm sitting. He pushes my messed hair from my face and it sticks to the side of my sweaty face.

"Carla you're so cold" he acknowledges.

"Peter, please what is happening?" I ask all breathy and slow.

Tears have now pricked in the corners of his eyes. He's keeping things from me. Oh Peter please I thought we trusted each other our relationship isn't based on lies and deceit. He's silent for to long, I'm still trying to regulate my breathing and keep warm, come on baby please speak to me. He places a hand on my cheek and takes a deep breath whilst pulling up and tucking the sheets round me.

"I'm so sorry" he says as he gives into his emotions and the tears stream. "I owe them you know that, but on my last job I… I messed up," he says with a gulp. I stare up at him waiting for the explanation. He composes himself before continuing. "A guy was killed, I left something behind when I left the transport, the driver then taking the car back was killed because they did a random search on the car."

He stops and I'm completely lost why is it Peter's fault that this guy was killed? Taking another deep breath Peter continues with the explanation.

"At the border he was caught and accused of drug trafficking, it's illegal here and they traced it back to Mr Azarov and Rafael, he managed to convince them that they driver was a user but I think they've bribed them. In all honesty Baby it's got me shaken, they've got me running similar jobs" he pauses "next time it could be…."

"Stop Peter, please" I interrupt him. I know what he's trying to say and I can't hear that.

"He said I need to rest and get better because he has a job for me" I stumble on the words as I spit them out to Peter. It feels good to share this information. Peter looks shocked, is it because he knows or because he didn't?

"Peter do you know what it is?" I say sounding a little bit better than I did. I don't feel so groggy and can think a little more clearly. I'm sure that drip was pure drugs.

Peter looks nervous, he knows! "If you know please tell me" I beg him.

He shakes his head and sniffs "Carla, I'm sorry, really so sorry they're only doing this to torture me because I messed up, they promised me they would and I didn't mean too I'm just so exhausted" and he breaks down in front of me as he finishes.

"I don't blame you, please tell me?" I cry.

"I'm sorry darling I don't know any details, they won't tell me," he explains as he composes himself again.

He nestles against me and holds me close his arms shaking. I'm so exhausted I sink down beside him and rest my heavy head on his chest as I fall asleep.

'_There I am pinned against the door too my flat. Tears streaming down my already tear stained cheeks. Body tense and I know in that moment just what he is going to do. I want to fight but for some reason I don't I just let him invade my body. When he finishes I drop to the floor, lifeless and empty. My breathing shallow and low, heart pounding and wet teary eyes. I can't look at him he's evil. 'It's your fault, you made me do it' those words haunt me. 'It's your fault you made me do it' it echo's in my head getting louder and louder as it repeats'_

I bolt upright from my sleep, gasping for breath and sweating again. That night with Frank keeps coming back to haunt me, my nightmare, well one of my nightmares. When I finally compose myself and look down at my side Peter is gone. In that moment I sense someone watching me. I look up and glance around the room, my eyes skimming until they fix on the shadow of a figure in the far corner. "Who's there?" I call my voice shaky.


	23. Chapter 23

"Peter!" I yell as I try to work out if there is someone lurking in the shadows of the bedroom or if it's just my eyes playing tricks on me. "Peter!" I cry out again my voice shaky. The shadow has begun to emerge from the dark corner. I shuffle over to the left of the bed and frantically reach around to find the light switch with my fingers whilst keeping my eyes fixed on the moving shadow. I flick it on and am blinded momentarily by the brightness. On looking back to the corner the shadow has disappeared. I stop and my breathing hitches. Were they even there?

The room is silent but I can hear the pounding of my heart. My head flies from side to side looking all around the room for the shadow. I can feel it something is definitely in this room. The light from the bedside lamp is not bright enough to fill the room. I stare at the darkened corners of the room, examining closely to see if anything is lurking.

"Peter!" I cry out again voice still shaky but no one seems to be coming to my rescue.

I suddenly feel tired. I come over all exhausted and lie back against the pillow letting out a series of coughs from my dry throat. I dazedly stare forward through watery eyes and I see it again, the shadow lurking in the darkness of the right corner of the room. I don't scream but call out in a whisper "Who's there?" and am greeted by only a heavy breathing. That psycho in the scary movie stuff but who is it?

I tremble in my sheets, as the breathing seems to travel closer and further into the room. The shadow moves and looks as though they are taking aim. A gun! Carla, come on move yourself, run! My sub conscious screams at me. I know its right but I just can't move. "Peter" I whisper my voice trembling as the shadow grows taller and taller. Swallowing hard I concentrate on what's happening. There's gunfire and then smash! The room is plunged into darkness as a bullet has obliterated the sidelight. I feel a chill and the room is suddenly blanketed by a sheet of freezing cold air. I can't see a thing; I slide my eyes back and forth keeping my head still. My rapid breathing can be heard a mile away and I can see my breath in the air.

I stop breathing when I feel warm breath against my exposed neck. I expect to feel the gun against my temple or my throat but strangely I don't. Who is this and again what the hell?

"Name?" The strong deep voice asks. I don't recognise it but it's a Spanish accent I'm sure of it. One of Rafael's heavy's maybe?

"Name" he yells again anger apparent in his voice.

"Carla" I whisper but it's barely audible. God I'm scared.

"Pretty" He replies and there it is what I feared. He runs a hand down my face and then as if by magic there is a knife against my throat. He's pressing it in hard and I can feel it pushing on my windpipe, cutting into the skin. I stare through the darkness, I want to see who now thinks they should torture me but nothing. I've never been in pitch black like this it is truly terrifying.

My mind races as I try to think of a good reason Peter would leave me alone. A terrible thought crosses my mind that the guy holding a knife to my throat might have, well he could have…. No, no I mustn't think like that but it's no use my mind keeps returning to the thought. What if? What if? Oh the possibilities. Peter could be lying next to the bed, unconscious or dead maybe. I grit my teeth as I feel the knife twist into my skin and it interrupts my wayward thoughts of Peter's whereabouts. Tears form from the pain "Please" I beg of the stranger but not sure exactly what I'm beginning for. Peter? My life? "Please" I cry pointlessly again into the blackness.

"Just shut up bitch, unless you want to get seriously hurt," he warns.

Seriously hurt? Please someone save me; I don't care which one of them. I can't believe none of them have heard the gunshot and come rushing. Maybe they don't care what happens to me. I can't control it and giant sob escapes as he twists the knife in again and I feel a small cold trickle run the length of my throat. It has to be blood he's broken skin, he's serious he'll kill me.

Fumbling at the door disturbs us and it slowly clicks open. I can feel a shift in the body weight of the stranger as he raises his free arm. I hear the slow pulling back of the trigger, I'd almost forgotten about the gun. Once the door has fully extended open its almost like one of those intense slow motion movies scenes. The trigger is released as the bullet flies from the barrel, across the top of the bed and towards the door. 'Please don't be Peter, please don't be Peter' I recite over and over in my head. I close my eyes trying to block it out.

He obviously misses as gunfire opens up between them. A fog of smoke forms in front of me and I cough, thanking god he has removed the knife as he's obviously trying to dodge the bullets flying his way. I sink myself further into the bed and struggle to pull the blankets as high as I can. That's it someone has been hit and falls to the floor with a thud. Suddenly the main light explodes and invades every inch of the bedroom. I peek up from my bed sheets. To the left stands Jim in the doorway gun firmly fixed in a tight grasp and aimed across the room. Turning to my right I see the stranger, he's still alive still breathing so who was hit?


	24. Chapter 24

Jim fires another shot and it makes me jump. I look over at the stranger as he drops his handheld and it hits the varnished hard wood floor. He grabs his arm, a flesh wound Jim has given him, staggering back against the wall. He looks in pain but at least he is no longer armed. Rafael's men push past Jim and run over to restrain their latest hostage. My eyes follow them as I watch on in horror as they drag him from the room. Once they have disappeared I gaze at Jim remembering the gunshot in the dark. I try to shuffle up in the bed sheets and look over to the doorway.

"Ms Connor, please you need your rest" I hear Jim call over. Hearing his voice you'd almost think he was concerned.

He drops to his knees and I want to see what has happened so shuffle to the bedside.

"Peter!" I scream breathlessly. He's lying before us on the hard, cold floor. Blood splattered up his white shirt and his hand tightly grasping his side. Blood is pumping from the wound like a fountain, painting his hand and drip by drip hitting the floor. Bile rises in my throat, not Peter. His breathing is slow and hoarse and his chest is lifting and falling at a rapid rate. Tears have collected in the corners of my eyes, not my Peter he can't die he can't leave me too. In that moment I break down, Leanne was right about me I really am a black widow. Peter is gritting his teeth and I think it's from the pain. "Peter, is he… is he going to be ok?" I ask Jim who is tending to Peter's side. I reach out my arm from the bed; I'm as far over as I can be. Peter cries out when Jim wraps his arm around his neck and goes to lift him to his feet. I whimper and sob as I watch helplessly. After the struggle of getting Peter up, Jim helps him hobble from the room. "Peter" I cry out in an enormous sob as I stretch out, my fingers extended beyond their natural reach just wanting to hold his hand and go with him. I lose balance and fall from the bed, my chest hitting the hard floor with one hell of an impact.

I crawl across to the door, all my limbs numb and frankly a bit useless. Who knew lying in bed all day would make you feel this lousy. I cough and splutter as I take deep breaths, struggling to find energy. Reaching the corridor I try to lift my body and get on to my knees. After a lot of effort I finally make it but instantly have to put my hands out in front of me on the floor to keep my balance. I pant I'm so out of breath. I have to find Peter I'm worried if I'm not there he'll think I…He'll think I don't care. Hold on Peter I'm on my way.

I force myself to move forward occasionally losing strength and falling face first into the floor. It's freezing beneath my hands and knees and sends shivers through me as my body trembles with the cold air that surrounds me. I only make it part way down the corridor before I lose all control and slip violently my head thudding against the floor as it falls. I try to claw myself back onto my knees but it's no use I just can't. I lay splayed out whimpering and slowly losing consciousness as my mind shuts off.

I feel a jerk as I suddenly gain consciousness and am being pulled to my feet. I can see my breath once again on the cold air. Have these Russian's never heard of central heating! I shiver and tremble as I'm carried through the corridor. I glance up to see who's come to my rescue and it's Rafael. He moves swiftly and I bet he's warm wrapped in his thick woollen coat. He stops in his stride when he realises I'm looking up at him. "Ms Connor, you should not have been out of your bed," He scolds.

"Ppppp…Pete" I try to say his name but I'm too cold and my teeth chatter.

"Hey is ok, I take you to him" Rafael replies. He can obviously tell how desperate I am to see Peter.

We enter a small room lavishly decorated with rich red velvet sheets. Old worn tapestries on the brick walls and candles light the dull room. The same doctor that tended to me is hovering over Peter, connecting up to various tubes and injecting him with drugs. Oh Peter, the uncontrollable sobs escape and the tears flow steadily down my cheeks. "Peter" I whisper.

The doctor turns to Mr Azarov and it's all in Russian. Please speak in English I want to know what's happening. The doctor bids him farewell on exiting the room and Mr Azarov waves his hand in a summoning motion for Rafael to go to him. He's still holding me in his arms as he strolls confidently over to the chair.

Before they can exchange any information I interrupt wanting to know about Peter. "Will he be ok?" I ask my voice unstable. Mr Azarov nods but doesn't say a word. He speaks to Rafael in Spanish and I assume he's giving him all the gritty details regarding Peter's health. There is a long pause before he snaps at Rafael. "Take Carla to Peter and then get the doctor, she does not look well" his top lip curling towards the end of the sentence. I'm fine it's Peter who is not well just look at him. Rafael swiftly turns on his heal and heads in the direction of the big double bed that holds Peter.

He supports me as he lowers me and expects me to stand as he throws back the sheets uncovering the crisp white bed sheets. He lifts me again and I wrap my arm around his neck to keep steady. He slowly lowers me onto the sheets depositing me at Peter's side. I turn to look at him, Peter is deathly pale and his face is drawn. I slip my hand beneath his and squeeze his hand it's freezing and I'm not much warmer. My eyes have begun stinging from all my crying and I can't let another tear fall. Peter doesn't move he's so lifeless and still. He better get better I know it's selfish but I need him alive and well.

I lie still next to him as Rafael returns with the doctor. They exchange words in a hushed tone that I cannot hear but as the doctor approaches me he shakes his head. "Ms Connor, you should not of left your bed or un-hooked yourself from your medication" his tone stern as he tells me off. It's like being at school! Reaching into his medical bag he pulls out a syringe and then stabs it into the little bottle of meds. I watch as he pulls the contents from the small bottle and the syringe slowly fills, he then gently flicks it with his fingers. Taking a firm grasp of my arm he holds it flush with my side and pushing the needle into the inside of my elbow and injects the fluid. I feel instantly calmed and drowsy as I push my head back against my pillow and drift off.


	25. Chapter 25

Peter and I have been in this room for days the only people coming in and out have been the doctor and some little old lady cleaning the room. She's quiet doesn't speak and then scuttles off back out. Peter hasn't awoken yet, I keep looking round at him but he is drained of all life. As I gaze longingly at the man I love his skin is pale and clammy and my eyes tear as I watch him. He does however look peaceful, he needs the rest he's been on the go and pushed around ever since we left Weatherfield the poor thing. I smile at the thought of him dreaming up our future but that's probably the last thing on his mind. I watch him intently as his chest rises and falls slowly, occasionally his eyes flicker but he still does not wake.

Staring at him I'm instantly transported back to the 10th December 2010 when Leanne and I sat in that cold clinical hospital waiting room as Peter fought for his life. I remember how I felt that rush of adrenaline when he was eventually pulled from the mountain of rubble of the tram crash. A single tear escapes at the awful memories, I thought I'd lost him and then at the hospital seeing him all wired up it just broke my heart. I pull from the back of my mind the dark thoughts, Leanne never deserved this wonderful man I now call mine she loved Nick, no scrap that she still loves Nick and that's why she went running back to him.

I'm disturbed from my dark thoughts as the doctor comes in for the second time today. Acknowledging that I'm awake he nods and goes straight to Peter. Peeling the sheets from his body he squints and examines the dressing on his side where he was shot. Removing the dressing he reaches for a cloth from a big metal basin on the dresser side. Ringing the cloth he hovers it over Peter's side and I assume he's cleaning it. He gives a smile when he looks up and regards me watching him with intent. Grabbing a fresh dressing he quickly covers the wound before I can struggle up on my elbows and get a good look. Checking Peter over he scribbles some notes on a pad he has magically produced from his breast pocket on the white coat he wears.

My eyes follow his every move as he adjusts the flow of Peter's fluids and gives him another injection. When he's finished he pulls the blankets back over Peter and then walks round the bed to me. This is his daily ritual; I'm still quite weak and recovering from the hypothermia. I occasionally shake or shudder violently and haven't been fed in days but have been allowed small sips of water. He places a firm hand on my forehead and pushes me back down onto the pillow. He pulls a thermometer from his white coat pocket and pops it in my mouth, the cold glass I feel against my tongue. He frowns as he is given the result and pulls it from my mouth. Returning to his bag on the dresser at the end of the bed he rummages around. His eyes light up as he pulls a small glass bottle from the bag and container of pills.

My eyes widen as he brings them to my side. He pulls the same syringe he used for Peter from his pocket and stabs the little bottle injecting the contents. What kind of Doctor is he? I mean using the same syringe; I doubt he's even qualified god knows what he's pumping into us! I glare at him as he pushes the needle in, up and under my skin and with even pressure releases the liquid drug into my arm. I instantly feel the effects and become drowsy. Un-clicking the cap on the pills he empties some into his hand. Placing it over my mouth he violently pushes them between my lips. Taking the water jug from the dresser he lifts the empty plastic cup from my bedside and fills it with no more than two mouthfuls of water. He slides one arm under my head and supports the nape of my neck by splaying his hand as he raises my head at a slight angle. With his free hand he lifts the glass of water and places it against my lips. I welcome the cool liquid in my dry mouth and it slips freely down my throat with the bunch of pills. My vision is blurred as I watch the doctor leave us once again.

'_It's your fault, you made me do it' he's watching me tremble on the floor and curl into myself trying to protect myself but it's a little late for that now and then I'm sat face to face with Liam the last time I'd see him alive. I stare up at him in denial as he reels off all my true feelings that I'm holding hostage at the back of my mind whilst telling myself I love Tony and then the bombshell 'I don't love ya' and I see his heartbreak in the second I turn and leave. Suddenly he's cold lying in the street. Tony's got me hostage in my own factory, he's making me pay for my mistakes, for Liam! We're alone, it's dark and I'm trembling watching him tease with that lighter flame. 'Its time, its time to say goodnight' and I scream as he drops the lighter to the gas soaked floor. He grabs me as I try to escape and as I stare at those flames my life flashes before my eyes'_

I wake in a panic, cold sweat dripping from me. I turn to Peter but he is still resting peacefully what I wouldn't give for him to wake and hold me. Since our _'adventure' _these nightmares of my past are becoming a regular occurrence. My breathing is shallow but fast and my heart is again pounding painfully against my chest. I shudder as the thoughts flash through my mind once more at high speed. I remember them so vividly, every detail in high definition, every word perfectly formed. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself as I hear the door click open. I lie back against my pillow and screw my eyes tight squinted so I can just see enough of who enters.

Mr Azarov enters accompanied by Rafael and Jim, what on earth do they want? They are muttering in Spanish as they approach the bedside and I assume that they have come to check on Peter and expect them to go to his side of the bed but they stop at me. I instantly stop breathing and try not to move. Jim reaches down and I shiver in reaction to the draft created as he throws back the blankets covering me. One arm sweeps under my legs and the other under my neck, as he begins to lift me my eyes spring open. I don't think any of them notice so I screw them up tightly once more. Jim tightens his grip on me and makes my head spin as he rotates at full speed and starts walking away from the bed. My mind races, where is he taking me? I just want to stay with Peter.

Narrowly I open my left eye as I'm carried along, all I see is the same familiar dark damp corridor. Reaching an ajar door Jim kicks against it and it swings open with ease. Walking in he places me into a chair and my head lulls to one side as I play act at being asleep. I hear the cracking of knuckles and flutter my drugged up eyes open to see Mr Azarov in a big leather chair opposite me. I'm sweating nervously and the backs of my bare legs stick to the cream leather on which I'm sat. His gaze on me is intent as he gives a big smile exposing a toothy grin all yellow stained with the occasional flash of gold. Snapping his fingers the same leggy blonde from the private jet appears with a large glass of whisky. He swirls it and then holds it beneath his nose as he breathes in deep the rich aroma.

"Down to business" he declares before tipping the whisky down his throat in one shot. I gaze longingly at the glass I would love a drink. He gins once more as he removes the glass from his lips and holds it out to Jim.

"Now Ms Connor, Carla darling, Mr Barlow is otherwise engaged thanks to our little friend, so I'm a man down" he begins. He gives me a moment to register what he has said. I don't get it what's it got to do with me?

I look at him quizzically. "What's this got to do me?" I ask innocently, genuinely confused by the whole situation due to my foggy head.

He gives a deep snigger and shakes his head. He places his hands firmly on the arm of the chair and pushes himself up and onto his feet. His shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as he walks round to the back of my chair. I don't move my gaze I stare firmly forward. One arm is suddenly pinned across my throat pulling me back into the chair and making me open my mouth and gasp for air the pressure he applies increases, the other hand gently caressing my hair and cheek.

"Don't play innocent with me Ms Connor, you came with Mr Barlow and he is otherwise engaged so you will be doing his errands! Get it" he spits out viciously in my ear and firmly pulling on my hair yanking my head back so I have no choice but to stare up into his wide sparkling blue eyes. I take a big gulp and nod to show I understand.


	26. Chapter 26

I stand in the queue for boarding, one of Rafael's men at my side accompanying me and the other not to far behind for back up. I caught a glimpse of myself a while back as we entered Belgorod Airport in a big glass door; I look drawn pale and weak on Abel's arm. I have only recently learnt of their names despite them having been hanging around me now for at least a week and a half. He moves forward and I almost lose my balance. The queue is long and I've been daydreaming about Peter wondering how he is.

I've been gone only a day, we have travelled across country to reach Belgorod and I'm in a daze as I continue to think that when we left, well I was forced and pulled away from Peter's side that he looked so weak. He looked paler than he originally did, his skin covered in small beads of cold sweat his skin, leathery and freezing to the touch. His lips had been slightly parted as I kissed him goodbye and whispered for him to stay strong. As I was loaded into the car with Abel and his colleague I had begged Mr Azarov to get Peter help. He sniggered at me and made a deal with me. _"You be a good girl and do your job and if you succeed I will get him professional help." _I would have to succeed for Peter's sake, to save his life.

"Your passport Ms?" the attendant asks sternly. Abel glances over from the attendant the other side. "Sorry, my fault I forgot to give my wife her passport, she doesn't speak English, my apologies" he says reaching into his blazer inside pocket and producing a Spanish passport. He hands it to the attendant and nods in an attempt to apologise again before turning back to the attendant inspecting his passport. My eyes have widened slightly as I stand nervously before the older gentlemen examining my _fake_ passport and me closely. I'm literally shaking as soon as Abel gets a grip on me again he's going to tell me to stop being so obvious.

I'm relieved when he nods and hands the passport back to me but before I can lift my hand to take it Abel snatches it and thanks the man. He grips my arm tightly and pulls me through, it's quite violent why do these Russian's not notice or is it just the standard procedure here _'pull fake wife around and get away with it.' _ I widen my eyes once more in surprise.

When we reach the boarding lounge he sits me down in one of the little leather seats. He takes a seat next to me and then lifts his hand swiftly grabbing mine and holding it so tight it begins to go numb from the lack of blood flow. "You need to settle down," he hisses at me through a tight-lipped smile. His dark eyes shine bright as he stares into mine looking for my understanding. "Sorry" I whisper inaudibly. He turns away his focus resting on his colleague across the departure lounge, he nods to him and he nods back.

Before I left we had a lengthy debriefing about my job, I'm to go first when the flight to Thailand is called and Abel and Emilio will follow. I've been warned of the consequences if they find me out and I must not get caught after all I don't want to let Peter down, he's counting on me to get him the medical support he needs. We wait nervously I'm violently shaking as the Russian air is ice cold and snow and ice have blanketed the streets outside. I can see icicles hanging from the large glass-viewing window of the lounge and a light flurry of snow has begun falling. I've been re-dressed as I was finally re-united with my bag. They selected a pair of black leggings and I'm glad I packed my boots, maybe my sub conscious knew all this was going to happen because heavens knows why else I would have packed velvet mid heeled calf length boots for a sailing trip! A large grey jumper also selected to cover my small black vest top and then a thick black fitted coat that is not mine but fits perfectly. I can't help but think whom it belongs to or worse still belonged to.

I'm rudely interrupted from my thoughts as Abel hands me a boarding pass and tells me my flight is about to be called. As I take the flimsy ticket from his firm grasp I hear them call, rising to my feet I take a deep breath and head towards the gate. As I approach I glance over my shoulder, no Abel but Emilio is not far behind. My breathing is shallow and I'm pretty sure I look suspicious. I have a considerable amount of make up on to hide the fact I'm still ill but you can still see it. Reaching the young lady checking tickets I smile and try desperately to relax. She greets me warmly with a big smile and takes my ticket. I stand with my arms folded across my middle and stare at my feet as she barely glances at the ticket and hands it straight back letting me board.

I walk slowly down the tunnel as instructed by Abel; I'm to wait for Emilio to escort me to the plane. Reaching half way I'm disturbed by a row I hear, Emilio is charging down the corridor chased by the guard. I stand flush against the soft lining of the walkway following the actions of a couple just ahead of me who looked alarmed at the events unfolding. I try my best to look surprised but I don't understand what has gone wrong. All Emilio had to do was hand her his ticket and board as I had done previously.

The guard tackles him to the floor and I jump as they grab him and tackle him to the floor. Emilio is very slimy, his skin greasy and a long black tangled mess of greasy hair to match. He's not very old I suspect early twenties. He tries to wrestle against the guard but fails miserably as they slap him in cuffs. I watch on in horror, maybe they have found out what we're carrying but I almost scream when I feel a tight grip grab my arm. Looking round I see it's only Abel. I put my hand over my chest and try to calm my heart rate. "You scared me," I whisper. He smiles and then nods in the direction of Emilio. "He's been caught, don't look at him," he warns so I stare down at my feet. They pull Emilio up and onto his feet. "Sorry for the inconvenience ladies and gentleman" says the guard as he pushes Emilio forward. I glance up to see him flash a terrified look in Abel's direction but he just looks away.

"Walk" Abel orders as he digs his fingers into my arm and pulls me forward to the airplane doorway. Another attendant welcomes us and guides us to a seat. Abel gestures for me to go first and take the window seat and then places himself beside me. Just after take off I summon up the courage to ask what will have become of Emilio, I have an idea and am not sure I want to know but I'm curious. He glares at me and I think he's angry that I bought it up. I sink into my seat as he takes a deep breath. "He will be dead meat now, you know the drill you were warned" he reminds me.

I sit remembering films I've watched over the years with Liam and Paul when we were younger about gangs and international crimes, smuggling and such. I then think back to all the warnings Rafael and Mr Azarov gave before I left. It's the death penalty for drug trafficking in Russian and in Thailand it's lethal injection, they've warned me not to act suspicious but I just feel I am. After all I'm stuffed with drugs, they are in the lining of my coat and the lining on my bra. Cocaine lined clothing the next big trend. I keep focused on the task for Peter's sake. We have a long flight and Abel tells me I must rest, he has meds for me, as I've not yet fully recovered from my hypothermia but they thought I was fit enough for the job. I close my eyes and begin to drift off just hoping I don't have any flashbacks.


	27. Chapter 27

I stir in my seat and gently flutter my eyes open, initially not remembering where I am I jump but it doesn't take long for me to reacquaint myself with the airplane surroundings and why I'm there. Abel is still sat beside me and he looks round when I re-adjust in my seat. It's very cold and an air conditioner isn't helping as it blows an icy blast upon me. I shiver and hug myself tightly but I can't take any meds until we're off the plane as Abel has them concealed on his person. I feel sick to my stomach I know I've not got long of this flight left and when I eventually get off I've got mission of getting through security without being discovered.

Abel's phone rings out loud and attracts the attention of a few fellow passengers. He glares round before answering it. He speaks in Spanish so I assume it must be Rafael or maybe Emilio if he's survived. When I hear his name I hang my head, he probably was a dangerous man but poor kid he was so young. I assume again that Abel is updating Rafael on our progress and what has happened back at Belgorod. He abruptly ends the call and turns to focus on me. "We will arrive soon and you will need to keep focused," he orders.

I gulp and nod in understanding and then I remind myself that I'm doing this for Peter.

As the airplane descends into Bangkok my nerves get the better of me. I'm not usually a nervous person, I used to deal with things so well, and my past love life is responsible for the girl I've become. I take a deep breath as the plane thumps against the runway. Surely by now Abel has realised that I don't look well and need something. He grabs the one bag we've bought from the overhead storage and reaches for my hand to help me from my seat. I take it gratefully as I need all the help I can get, as I still feel so weak.

We stand again in the queue to get our passports checked and stamped. Abel hands me mine as we're called forward. You'd think in a warm country in a jumper and thick woollen coat I'd be too hot but I'm still shivering. Scrutinising my passport the lady glances back and forth between my face and the picture. I gulp nervously as it feels like an eternity waiting for her to approve it. Eventually she hands it back and I take it holding it in my sweaty palm until I'm re-united with Abel the other side and he snatches it from my grasp. He grabs my wrist and holds me close to his side. "Come now" he orders.

I don't think I've ever been so silent as we walk through the airport. People occasionally stare at me but I assume that's because I look so out of place. I look at my contemporary surroundings, the terminals are sleek and looking ahead of me sunlight beams down through the chequered glass ceiling mirroring the check pattern on the shiny marble floor. It really is very pretty and an Asian inspired tune plays gently in the background. I feel relaxed knowing we made it though the security checks but I have no idea where we are going now. I was only told of the plan to go to Thailand, nothing more and certainly not in any detail.

Abel continues to drag me through the crowds as he frantically searches from the exit signs. "Where are we going?" I ask quietly.

"We have a meeting, business to attend to. What did you think we were here for a holiday?" he spits sarcastically.

"I know" I snap back at him, to be fair I've really had enough of him pushing me around.

Just as we reach the exit he stops suddenly. I glance up and a security guard is stood behind us, a tall uniformed man has his hand on Abel's shoulder. He doesn't look fazed at all that we've been stopped but my heart rate has since rapidly increased.

He lets go of my wrist and turns to face the man. "Can I help you?" he asks all cocky.

"Come with me please Sir," he orders.

Suddenly Abel has re-affirmed his grip around my wrist. Great if he's going down I guess I am too. I knew him pushing me around and me looking so drawn was going to arouse suspicion. I can't get caught though, poor Peter he needs that professional medical attention.

He's shoved down into a seat by the guard and he takes me down with him. Catching my breath I begin to cough. I really do need my meds now, I feel weaker than before and my head is spinning from all the over excitement. Nervousness has taken hold of all my body and I start to fidget through my frustration. "Names?" asks the guard sternly, he must know something. I look to Abel to say something. He knows we've messed up and what the consequences will be, small beads of sweat have formed amongst his faint moustache on his top lip he's nervous too but trying desperately not to show it.

"Abel and Carla Lopez" he eventually spits out.

Carla Lopez oh great so that's what that passport must say. Wait? Lopez but Rafael is a Lopez, that's why they look similar they must be related unless that's not his real name.

"Passports?" asks the guard and Abel instantly hands them over. Just as his colleagues before him he spends longer than I deem necessary examining mine. He wags his finger forward in a gesture he wants a quiet word with me. I rise to my feet and go over to him. He leans down and whispers to me "Is this your actual passport?"

Nervously I glance over at Abel who gives me a nervous smile. I take a deep breath and nod. The guard looks less than amused by my reaction. "This way" he orders guiding me by my arm to the little room to the left. I turn and fire a nervous glance at Abel showing him my scared expression.

Taking a seat opposite me the guard introduces himself. I continue to take deep calming breaths in an attempt to calm my erratic heart rate.

"So Mrs Lopez, is that your real name?" he starts immediately.

Slightly taken aback by his abruptness I stumble on my answer. "Y…Yes" I reply meekly.

"And the purpose of your visit to Bangkok?" he asks.

Again I don't know what to say, keep it simple I tell myself. "Holiday" I say calmly, impressed that I didn't stumble this time.

"How long for?" he asks. I think for a minute, a week maybe two, how long would they class as a holiday after all this had to be believable and what if they are asking Abel the same questions to check out our story. The guard taps his fingers on the table. Shit I've been too long with giving an answer. "Mrs Lopez?" he prompts

"Sorry, I err…..A week, sorry" I reply.

We sit silently for a few moments before he speaks again. "You sure Mrs Lopez? Nothing else you'd like to tell me whilst your safe in this room?" he asks, a concerned tone in his voice. My heart drops, he must know something doesn't add up but I just can't tell him I'm being forced to traffic drugs in order to get help for my boyfriend being held hostage in Russia by his creditors. "No" I reply quietly shaking my head.

He sighs deeply and shakes his head, "Ok you're free to go" he says rising to his feet and opening the door for me to leave. Back in the waiting area Abel is still sat quietly. "You" he says pointing to Abel and gesturing for him to follow him. He rises to his feet and saunters into the same little room. The guard however does not follow him in he shuts the door and comes over to me. He takes my passport from the side and hands it to me with a smile. "You can wait here or you can go and wait elsewhere," he offers as I nod politely. He begins to walk off back to the little room but pauses midway and turns back to me "Oh and Miss are you really sure you are ok? Not in any kind of trouble?"

I nod again and he offers a sympathetic smile.

Once he is back in the room and Abel has glanced back out through the glass window to check I am still present I take a seat and wait for his interrogation to finish. I watch another member of the security hall in a couple of scruffy looking men. Dark hair and tanned skin, dirty clothes and all sweaty looking. One of them flashes me a smile, the odd tooth missing a scar on his lip and bruises decorate his cheeks. His stare is intense through blood shot eyes. They don't get to sit and wait beside me as they are dragged straight off into a back room with no window. Drug dealers is my first thought but I can't be too sure. If I'm honest it has shaken my nerves and I'm worried that that is the type of scum we've flown all this way to deal with.

I watch the hands on the clock tick, Abel has been in there nearly an hour, I wasn't in there that long what on earth are they talking about? Eventually I see the guard stand and open the door letting Abel out. I'm relieved this must mean we're not in any serious trouble. Collecting his passport from the guard Abel shakes his hand. I stand and wait for him to come and take possession of my wrist again but he doesn't he walks right passed me. I'm stunned what the…. I smile over at the guard and hurriedly follow after him.

Finally reaching the outside of the airport Abel hails a cab and we clamber in. It speeds of when Abel gives him an address for a hotel. The streets are busy, market stalls and passers by but its so vibrant and colourful all the plants and flowers.

We pull up outside a run down little villa like hotel, only three stories high with a white clay exterior. Abel jumps out of the cab and rushes around to my door to open it and offer his hand to help me out. The passers by on the street once again stare at me, wrapped in my thick woollen black coat, my skin pale with a blue/green tint and my tangled messy raven hair. They scowl at me as if disapproving. Abel takes my arm and leads me into the dingy reception. Abandoning me at a seating area he approaches the receptionist and engages her in a conversation. I look around nervously, doesn't look like much of a place. A few scantily clad women pass by, they look similar to myself apart from the natural tan but their eyes drawn and expressions so blank they could be mistaken for robots.

Abel returns to pull me to my feet, "Now is time" he says calmly straightening his suit jacket. I follow as he takes me through a beaded curtain and down some stairs to what looks like a basement. Smoke clouds the air and I can smell a strong scent of rum as we push past yet another beaded curtain. "Mr Lopez" says a large Thai man with a grin. "Mr Injamin" He replies enthusiastically. I wonder how much business they have done in the past they must know each other well.

"Did you bring it?" he asks of Abel, his tone serious.

Reaching behind him Abel grabs my arm and propels me forward. I stumble and fall at the feet of the Thai.

"What's this?" he asks.

"Bonus" Abel says coolly as though I'm some kind of prize.

Mr Injamin crouches down to me and lifts my chin to look at me he smiles and nods approvingly. Looking up at Abel he asks him about the gear. Abel nods and bends down hooking his hands under my arms and pulling me back to my feet. He relieves me of my coat and hands it to the Thai and then he moves his hands so they slip under my jumper at the back. His large sweaty palms travel up my back until they find the catch on my bra, struggling for a minute and then releasing it. My eyes widen in shock as he drags it down and out of my top and throws it in the Thai's direction. "In the linings" he offers the information and the Thai hands them to a young man at his side and sends him away.

"Good job Abel, grab a drink and join me," he says smirking. I think that's it, right time to get back to Peter in Russia. Mr Injamin snaps his fingers as he smiles on at me. Two men of similar build assemble either side of me. "Take care of her," he says and they whisk me off.


	28. Chapter 28

The stream of water thunders against the discoloured enamel bathtub. One of the men takes a plastic bottle and tips in a lilac gel releasing the gentle scent of lavender. I sit quietly in the corner too frightened to move. They said that it was a quick job and I'd only be away from Peter for one night, surely we should have left this dingy run down place by now. Two young Tahitian women enter the room and the men who bought me leave. Without warning they strip me of my clothes. Confusion erupts in my facial expression as they grab a towel and wrap it around me. One offers her hand out to me and I hesitate before she smiles and nods for me to take it. She doesn't look like the other girls from earlier, she is bright and alert, deep shining brown eyes, long sleek dark hair and perfectly tanned skin.

She leads me over to bath and then helps me step in and fortunately I manage to do it with grace, which is a miracle when I think back on how clumsy I have become since the hypothermia. The water sloshes up the sides as I slide down into the water, guided gently by the smooth hands of the girls. Reaching for a cloth they lather it with soap and begin to wash my body. I keep tense really not accustomed to this behaviour.

"Relax," she says with a smile and I give her a nervous smile back. How can I relax with strangers bathing and washing me? Placing two fingers gently under my chin she pushes my head back so the other can tip warm water from a silver jug all over my hair. My hair feels suddenly heavy, weighing my head down. Squeezing from another bottle what I assume is shampoo she smoothes it through my hair before rinsing it off moments later. This is a pleasant experience but un-pleasant given the circumstances.

Helping me stand they wrap a fresh towel around my body and guide me from the tub. Not such a graceful exit as I catch my toes on the edge and stumble forward. Their light support is not enough to stop my falling face first on to the marble floor with a smack. Ouch. I try to push myself up and they reach down to help me but in my anger at my clumsiness I violently shake them off. Managing to sit up I sweep my legs round and under me and then I drop my face into cupped hands and begin to sob uncontrollably. Neither of them says a word but instead I hear them scurry off. I hope I haven't offended them I'm just so tired and been pulled about enough. My mind is running away with unpleasant thoughts about this whole situation, about what if Peter has deteriorated.

The tears splatter on the marble as they fall through my fingers. "Carla?" I hear Abel's voice as he falls to his knees in front of me. He sounds concerned but I doubt he has a care in the world about my feelings. I don't look up but just continue to sob. "What happened?" he snaps angrily and I assume he's not talking to me. I hear the stutter of the young lady's voice as she spits out that she doesn't know. "You must have done something!" he accuses.

"It's not their fault," I croak

"What?" he asks as though it wasn't clear.

I look up at him, "Its not their fault, I'm tired and I…I would very much like to get back to Peter" I eventually mumble out.

He waves his hand dismissing the girls. "Unfortunately we're not finished here, so you'll have to wait. Now get dressed." he hisses, flinging a bag at me. I don't catch it and it thuds down on it's side on the floor beside me.

He leaves me sat in the middle of the bathroom as he saunters out. The two women hurry back in apologising as they try again to help me to my feet but I shake them off once more. "Please Miss, we will get in trouble" one of them whispers and I can hear the terror in her voice. When I look up at them I'm met by two very scared expressions. I nod giving them the go ahead, after all they are only doing their job. Walking me over to a delicate bamboo dressing table and gesturing for me to take a seat. As I sit I gaze upon my reflection and where I have fallen a big bruise is starting form at my temple and small bruises are decorating my cheek. I reach up and gently place my fingers over them wincing at the slight pain they cause from my touch.

"Don't worry Miss, we fix," they girls chirp enthusiastically. I give a weak smile and watch as they run a comb through my long tangled raven hair. Each knot they catch pulls and I grit my teeth at the pain as they force the comb through. They decorate the right side of my hair with a large pinky red flower and spritz me with a dash of a light floral perfume. Picking up the bag that Abel threw at me they remove the contents. A long silk floaty dress is revealed, it's gorgeous. It's an off white cream colour with gold detailing and spaghetti straps. I stand into it and one pulls it up my body as the other removes the fluffy towel.

They leave me for a minute and I take a seat back in front of the mirror. It's not much of a transformation, my skin is still pale with that blue tint and deep dark circles surround my drawn eyes. My pupil's are wide and my lips puffy, tearstains accompany the bruising and I can still see the thin film of cold sweat across my entire face. The air that surrounds me is warm and clammy but I'm still cold, feverish in fact. I place my hand over my forehead to check my temperature and it's boiling. I really haven't felt well for days now, even lying beside Peter I was coughing and shivering but I'm sure it's just the after effects of hypothermia.

I am disturbed by a gentle tap on the door and the men from earlier enter the room. "Miss" one of them asks and I turn to look. "Come" they order as they each take one of my arms. We walk down again to the smoke filled basement and I see Abel laughing away with Mr Injamin. I'm delivered to their side; they sit on large bar stools and each hold a glass. "So pretty" Mr Injamin says as he reaches out to run his fingers along my bruised cheek but I pull back and he retreats giving a short loud laugh. "Feisty. How much?" he turns back to Abel asking a wicked glint forming in his eyes. Abel reaches for his phone and dials a number; lifting it to his ear he begins his conversation. "Rafael, all good…..look…listen mate…yeah he's pleased yeah…..about Carla?" he starts. About Carla what? I am not for sale! so what the hell is going on?


	29. Chapter 29

Abel rises and starts to pace as he listens to what Rafael tells him. I watch him listening intently to all he says trying to figure out the deal he is making fully aware that Mr Injamin is ogling me silently. I jump as he cups his hand round my cheek and my eyes slowly slide in his direction. He is still grinning at me a longing to have me in his eyes. This is never going to happen I tell myself, I've been used and taken advantage of enough, it shouldn't ever happen to anyone not even just the once.

With a proud smile Abel returns to us, Mr Injamin gives him a cool look and waits for some information as he takes a tight grip of my wrist. "So what's the damage?" he asks.

Abel giving a nervous lick of his lips, hunches and leans forward before giving an answer. "One hundred thousand, one night, that's his only offer"

I choke taking a deep breath, his final offer, excuse me this is my body I don't think so!

Mr Injamin nods in acceptance and snaps his fingers once again. A young man promptly arrives at his side "One hundred thousand baht for Mr Lopez" he orders. The young man nods and disappears. I turn my attention to Abel who looks rather pleased with himself, giving him a disapproving glance.

I'm still standing at their side when the young man arrives back with a tatty envelope stuffed with notes and tied in the middle with string. Abel flicks his finger across the tops of the notes before smiling and depositing it in his inner jacket pocket. I note that the young man has not been immediately dismissed but that Mr Injamin is whispering in his ear. I want to run, just escape, maybe I could just slip away when no ones looking. For the first time in days I'm suddenly flooded by a flush of heat and a dry staggered cough escapes from lips.

My hands are being bound behind my back with what feels like a rope. Reacting quickly I try to fight against it but Abel hops to his feet producing a small automatic handgun from the inside pocket where he has just stashed the money. I stop trying to resist in the instant he places the gun against my temple. My rapid breathing slows as he whispers in my ear. "Be a good girl now or you know who will suffer" he spits in warning. Peter! My heart aches at the thought, not Peter they can't hurt him.

Mr Injamin bids Abel goodnight and slips him a key to a room. He takes it casually and shakes his hand. Grabbing my arm Mr Injamin digs his fingers in and drags me off to a side room. I have no idea what to expect as we enter. It's dingy and dark, the odd glow from a candle illuminating small patches. A few coughs can be heard and the air is hazed with smoke. It catches in the back of my throat and I begin a spate of chesty little coughs as I feel my cheeks flush. He throws me down onto a soft surface and my head ricochets against the plush mound of pillows. When it finally settles I feel a weight upon me. Opening my eyes and looking up Mr Injamin is reaching up to stroke the side of my face. My breathing hitches as his fingers linger over my skin.

A single tear escapes and runs straight across the path of his fingers, dripping off the side of my cheek and into my ear. Several follow in its path and they begin on the other side. Flicking my eyes open I catch a glimpse of him in a pocket of flickering candle light. His thin dark eyes peer down at me, he smiles and then forcefully makes a move for my mouth. I turn and his lips meet my cheek, he doesn't seem bothered and plants the kiss. He continues to peck away down to my neck and moving quickly in the direction of my breasts ignoring my sobs. My hands bundled behind me are digging uncomfortably into the small of my back and are going numb from being crushed by not only my body weight but also his. As he reaches the top of my left breast he deposits one last kiss, leaving a sticky wet residue from his rummy saliva. He runs his nose intimately up my throat and over my chin as he scoops his right hand under my cheek and flicks my head back to look at him.

His breathing is shallow and steady as he violently pushes his groin into me letting out a loud groan. Again alarmed my eyes dart back and forth uncomfortably as I squirm beneath him. I don't want this I don't care what he has paid for. I can hear whispering from low hushed voices and I wonder who is watching us. Invading my mouth he pushes his tongue passed my lips and kisses me deeply. My tears stream harder and faster with every move he makes but he holds my head still between his hands when I start resisting. When he eventually releases me I'm gasping for breath and the coughing begins again.

Finally he shifts and I'm relieved off his body weight. Maybe that's all he wanted, I calm a little at the thought. Turning my head I see him lying beside me propped up on one elbow and smiling at me as he sucks on a cigar. Inhaling deeply and then releasing he blows the smoke straight into my face and I cough again. My eyes are feeling once again heavy and tired and I ache all over. When he blows a second exhaled puff of smoke in my direction I shiver. Reaching behind him he produces what looks like a bottle of iced champagne and I remember how on the night The Joinery opened I told Peter how I loved how the bubbles dance over the rim. Another tear escapes and follows the tear-stained path of its predecessor as I remember poor Peter suffering and perhaps now fighting for his life in an unfamiliar surroundings.

I feel a familiar pair of hands haul my body up slightly so I'm sat against the cushions. Slowly looking over I see the pretty young lady who bathed me this morning and she gives a comforting smile before retreating. The already wet rim of the bottle reaches my lips and I feel his hand tilt my head back as he begins to pour from the bottle. That taste, it takes me back to so many memories and I welcome the bubbles as they coat my mouth. Cruelly the bottle is snatched after only a few drops and I begin to feel uncomfortable once more. I feel his hand run down the length of the silk and where it has ridden up slightly he allows his hand to creep beneath. His touch is soft and warm against my skin; his hand glides over my skin and up to my inner thigh. I gasp realising that he's going to do the very same as Frank did and Steve.

His hand skims over my hip and around to my backside lifting me slightly. He is firmly pressed against my side and pushes into me. His hand caresses the left of my bottom as he lifts himself over me so he's straddling me once more. I feel my heart rate increase again as he digs his fingers into my soft flesh before releasing it and bringing his hand back to my front and out from under the dress. Firmly pinning my beneath him he reaches for the small slit at the bottom of the dress and taking it firmly in both hands rips it in one swift movement up to hip level. He smirks and gives a small evil laugh. He reaches behind me and begins to undo my restraints.

The rope loosens freeing my hands and he takes a firm grip of my wrists and pulls them in front of me. Placing them flat by my sides he lets go and grabs my shoulders and pushes me down so I'm lying directly beneath him. Here we go again! He kisses me firmly again before sitting up right. Reaching for the top of the dress he grips it firmly and rips between my breasts exposing me. Looking down he admires the view and my chest rises and falls in double time. Nestling between my breasts he kisses the skin once again depositing sticky saliva everywhere. He continues with his affections as he slides his hand down the silk still covering my torso. I don't know how much more of this I can stand. Reaching the split he made in the dress he slips his hand underneath and hitches the material up as it is carried against his hand as it heads north. It exposes me and he again pushes against me groaning. He steadies himself on one hand and removes his other hand from under the dress and reaches for his fly.

This is not going to happen again I'm adamant, he's released me so with a sudden rush of adrenalin I feel I raise my hands and push him off taking him by surprise as he falls beside me. I quickly scramble to my knees and crawl to the edge of the bed. He reaches out for my ankle and gets a good grip of it. I scream and struggle kicking against his hand with my other foot. By some amount of luck he loses his secure grip and I fall from the edge of the bed with a thud. Scrambling once more to my feet using the mattress edge for support I go again to run but he grabs my wrist as it leaves the mattress. I turn and pull against him trying to prize my hand free of his grasp with my other. Eventually I win again and turn to make my escape. "Get her!" I hear him yell an order as I reach the doorway. There is not time to look back. I run for my life.


	30. Chapter 30

I fight passed the small huddles of people hanging around the bar area we were in earlier catching my bare feet on broken glass that blankets the floor. It's too late after I feel it penetrate the soft flesh of my sole and I scream out from the pain attracting more attention than I'd like. I turn to check who is following me, panting heavily now as I begin to run low on adrenalin and run out of steam. Tripping on a barstool carelessly placed I propel forward losing my balance as I fly into someone's open arms.

Realising this I probably it I gaze up only to be greeted with a stern look from none other than Abel. "Shit!" I mumble and for a minute think about struggling but am stopped as he reaches again for the gun and holds it to my temple. I freeze on the spot scared to death, what have I done? The guards chasing me have moved in. Abel throws me to them and they take my arms and begin restraining them at my back again. I'm overwhelmed with emotion deeply disappointed I didn't get away. Once Abel is convinced I can't run he reaches for his phone and dials a number. Oh no Peter, what have I done? He did warn me to be a 'good girl'. My heart sinks once more as he glares at me. "Rafael" he snaps as the call is answered. "Mr Barlow, yes…no she was not obedient…yes…. yes…she knew the deal…yes kill him" He orders. "NO! No please I'm sorry no. Peter!" I scream in an ear-piercing shriek. Abel gestures for the men to take me away. "Peter! Peter!" I scream again "Please I'm sorry" I beg as I fight the men dragging me back to the room.

Throwing me back down on to the mattress Mr Injamin takes his place once again above me pinning me down as before. Shouting to his guards he dismisses them. After they shuffle out of the room he lowers his head and his lips hover above mine. "Stupid girl" he spits anger clear in his tone. I take a deep breath and gulp as I'm wary of him. "Your little boyfriend will pay for that you know," He threatens.

I begin again with the uncontrollable sobs and tears cascade from my eyes and over my cheeks. "Peter" I whimper pathetically at the thought of what I have done to him. It's all my fault they're going to kill him because I just couldn't do as I was told. Had to be selfish, typical Carla. I feel a rage building inside me and I resent my earlier actions. "Please, please I'll do whatever you want, please don't let them hurt Peter" I cry out. He suddenly calls out for the guard to come back, "Mr Lopez" he requests and I hear the scurry of the footsteps as he leaves the room.

"Mr Injamin?" I hear the seriousness present in his voice.

"He little boyfriend, spare him, I have plans for this beauty" he advises.

Abel obviously pulls out his phone and the next thing I hear is the relaying of Mr Injamin's instructions to Rafael.

Phew Peter will be ok, well I hope, who knows if I can trust these thugs.

When Abel finally retreats Mr Injamin begins his torture. "Now where was I?" he asks smiling a wicked grin that I can half make out in the dull candlelight. Raising his hand to the top of my head he brushes it gently down my hair. I continue to cry and gasp for breaths to help regulate my once again erratic heart rate. I don't want to witness any of this so I close my eyes.

'_I'm scared, I've only just walked through my front door and he's sat there, he looks so calm but why's he here? 'Frank, have you come for your stuff or' I hear myself say. My nerves on edge something doesn't feel right. Oh he's very intimidating like this, he's never intimidated me before. Something's different but what? 'Let me guess ex alky, runs a bookies, leather jacket, it's him isn't it, isn't it?' Oh he looks so menacing but you'd never guess. "Stop it" I cry at his ludicrous suggestions of Peter and me in my flat. My voice is weak I'm weak. 'Ok I want you to go. Now!" but that's when it happens. Pinned against the door I feel the full power of his rage. The tearstains on my cheeks and then I'm back on that cold laminate flooring. 'It's your fault, you made me do it"'_

I can't take any more; the memories are too vivid, those haunting words echo in my head. My eyes fly open wide, full of fear and I'm transported back from my nightmares of Frank's attack to the nightmare I'm currently part of. "No! Please no!" I cry out from beneath him but he ignores me and carries on with his assault upon me.His hands know no bounds as he invades every inch of my trembling body. "Please don't," I beg meekly fully aware he is not concerned about me. He's roughed up his game as he grabs a handful of my tangled dark hair and pulls on it tightly. I cry out in pain as he reaches once more for his fly and unzips it in one swift movement. I whimper louder and sniffle as I lose full control of situation and he pushes against me over and over having his wicked way.

I cry into the pillow where my head gently rests. My eyes sting from my tears and my breathing is shallow. My knees tucked up towards my chest in the same position as the night Frank raped me. I'm one of the unluckiest people this is the third time I've been taken advantage of against my will and abused. I've been stripped of all my clothing and lie partly entangled in a crisp white sheet. Mr Injamin runs his middle and index finger along my side and I feel the tingle in my spine. I want him to stop, please make him stop, I silently pray.

'_The door buzzes; I lift the receiver and hear Liam's voice. I'm grateful; I had secretly hoped he'd come back. He'll know I've been crying but I buzz him up. Poor love he's drenched head to toe. "I'm sorry" "I'm sorry too" Remembering that hug it was lovely. "I can't believe ya caught me listening to this," I say with a sniff. We're so intimate in those moments; I remember them fondly after all they're my happy place. Liam, his heart is my home. I stare up at him through teary eyes. "Liam come t'bed with me" "What'd ya think I'm here for" oh how I've longed for this moment. Liam embraces me once more, I feel so safe. Suddenly he disappears and I hear my voice echoing as I call out his name. Instantly I'm transported once again to those damp dark cobbles outside the club. Liam's lifeless body just lying there, no paramedics, no Maria, no Michelle. Liam still and Tony standing proud like a beast that has just killed his prey. "Liam!" I scream stumbling towards him and falling into a cloud of dust where he had lay and I'm alone in the street. But then he's back, standing over me "it's you fault, you made me do it. Carla"' _


	31. Chapter 31

I wake with a jolt at the sensation of falling a small powerless scream escaping my lips. My eyes ping open wide and fearful as I feel a tight grip around my waist and neck. Glaring up I see Abel lifting me from the bed. Hopefully it's time to get back to Russia so I can be with Peter, by his side where I belong. Abel turns with me to leave and heads for the door. Suddenly he is stopped and Mr Injamin is stood in front of us. He reaches across me and runs his fingers slowly through my hair as the tips stroke my cheek. Abel tightens his grip and I can't help but wonder if it's because he feels my body go rigid.

"One more night, how much?" he asks.

"No I…I can't" Abel stutters.

Mr Injamin re-adjusts himself, straightening his figure and re-asserting his authority. "I always get what I want," He snarls at Abel whose rapid heartbeat I can now feel as he holds me close in a protective manner. Mr Injamin moves in closer when Abel doesn't instantly give in to his demands. He reaches up again and I screw up my entire face as if in pain thinking he's going to touch me again but he doesn't Sneaking a peak through an half opened eye, he takes Abel's throat in firm grip and pushes backwards. In an attempt to steady himself he drops me and I hit the floor, my entire body impacting it and I cry out as the back of my head thuds against the hard surface.

My head is spinning when I get my bearings and manage to lift my head long enough to see what has happened. Mr Injamin's tight grip has increased and Abel's face has been drained of all colour. His knuckles have turned white and Abel is shaking gasping for air and trying to spit out some words. My head is pounding and I can't see clearly, I raise my hand and clasp the side of my head to try and ease the pain, but am met by a wet patch. My hand shakes as I remove it and bring it in front of my face.

I'm shaking uncontrollably as it sinks in what I'm looking at. Blood splayed across my palm and up my fingers. My wide watery eyes stare in Abel's direction as he struggles against his attacker. Whilst watching I see Abel reach inside his jacket pocket and with trembling fingers he pulls out a gun. Mr Injamin is too quick and reaches for the gun in Abel's hand and flinging it across the room behind him. It hits the floor with a clatter and is within my reach. Injamin grabs Abel's throat tight twisting the base of his palm against his windpipe. Abel is running out of air, his limbs twitching uncomfortably as Mr Injamin drains him of life.

I think fast, I owe neither of them anything but if I try to escape I'll be stranded here as Abel has all my 'fake' documents. If I fail my escape Injamin will see I'm taken care off. In haste I reach forward and grab the weapon. Holding it firmly with both hands I lift it and point it in the direction of the two men. I have to get this right, if I miss and hit Abel it's all over and I lose all hope of making it back to Peter. My hands shake as I place a finger round the trigger, good job this is automatic!

I catch Abel's attention and his eyes glare in my direction. Mr Injamin turns just in time to see me, the trigger firmly held back but he keeps his grip firm on Abel. He throws a grin my way revealing a smart row of gleaming, white teeth and a snigger escapes as if daring me. I can't do it, I need to but I can't do it! I want to let go but my bloodly index finger slips and the trigger releases. Gunfire and next thing I know Injamin has hit the floor, his white shirt soaked with blood. Did I hit him?

I take a few deep, long breaths before I begin to pant and tears roll down my cheeks, I'm not sure if it's the adrenalin still flowing or relief. Abel slowly catching his breath as he staggers over to me and reaches to take the gun from my trembling hand. He wipes it on the bed sheets before placing it back in his jacket. He looks down at me and gives a thankful smile. Hopefully this will work in my favour when we arrive back in Russia. He grabs me by my arm dragging me to my feet. "Come quickly, not much time!" and with that we run.

The bar has emptied out but his two servants seem to have hung around. Abel throws them each a glance before thundering across the small dingy room dragging me behind. Once outside the hotel I'm blinded by the early morning sunshine. I lift my free hand to shade my eyes and glance around mirroring Abel's moves. He looks around before hailing a cab. I can see the fear in his eyes, he knows as well as I do that if we get caught for this, we'll…..No I'll go down for murder and I dread to think what the consequences would be. It's not like Abel is going to do a Frank and…

Suddenly I stumble forward as Abel pulls me into a cab behind him. My head throbs in pain once more; with all that has just happened inside I'd forgotten about the wound. I'm flung back into my seat as the cab driver speeds off towards the airport. Abel frantically checks all his pockets and I assume it's to make sure he has all our documents. I close my eyes as my fingers gently press against my wound, it's still wet and some blood has congealed in my hair. It's extremely painful and I make a small whimper and take a deep breath through gritted teeth.

"You ok?" I hear Abel ask and I nod gently trying to ignore the pain. I'm so desperate to get back to Peter I'm not stopping to have my head examined.

The cab pulls up at the curb and Abel bolts from the car and round to open my door. Reaching for my hand he pulls me from my seat and flings in a bundle of cash at the driver. "Hey thanks mis…." But he has no time to finish before Abel slams the door shut and starts pulling me towards the entrance. As when we arrived people stare at us, I gaze down at my cream, silk ripped dress. A large red handprint glows from my stomach area. Why didn't Abel notice? I halt instantly. He turns to look at me when he realises. "Come" he orders.

I gesture towards the bloody stain with wide eyes. "Shit!" he mutters as he fumbles out of his jacket whilst nervously glancing around to make sure we're not being watched. Throwing his jacket around me and helping me place my arms in the sleeves before he buttons it up hiding the stain.

We continue our escape hurrying across the foyer and off in the direction of the terminal. As we reach the security check I feel a firm hand on my shoulder. Freezing in the moment I can't breathe, my chest is tight and my palms sweaty and my head throbs again. It's an unbearable pain this time, stronger than before. Abel realising I have stopped again, turns with a furious look on his face but it drops at the sight of the security guard at my side.

"Hello again" he says calmly.

Abel gulps, we had told this man we were here for a week's holiday. Now stood before him is a slightly shaking gangster and bedraggled young lady he appears to be dragging around with him. We must look terrible.

"We have to go home, family emergency," says Abel quickly realising that the guard is analysing the strange situation and us. The pain in my head is increasing, noise is at an unbearable level and I begin to clutch at the side of my head again. The guard not convinced by Abel's excuse drags us back to the room we were interviewed in upon arrival. He asks me to sit and leads Abel in for a chat. I hope he can get us out of this.


	32. Chapter 32

Abel comes storming from the room and grabs my arm as he whips past me dragging me to my feet and pulling me ungracefully along with him. I don't say a word, I don't dare, he is raging and I know he has the gun. I don't want a fuss I just want to get pack to Peter. He keeps a tight hold on me we storm towards the gate. Flashing the tickets and passports to the young lady. She smiles as she checks them over and takes the part of the tickets she needs. Violently pushing me forward again we make our way onto the plane. I really don't understand why the guard hasn't followed us surely we look suspicious?

Finding our seats Abel throws me down. The seat is cramped and I'm once again pinned in beside the window. We sit in silence throughout takeoff and the first part of our flight. It's really bugging me as I gaze out of the window at the wisps and pockets of light, fluffy cloud, what did Abel say to that guard? I pluck up the courage to ask him. "What did you say to the er….the guard?" my voice barely a whisper.

He turns to me, eyes fiery "It does not concern you, just shut up or I'll make ya!" he threatens.

I'm not stupid. I don't push the matter. He still could have told me though after all I have just saved his life! I go back to gazing out of the window, feeling tired but just can't seem to sleep. My head is thumping once again, my skin still pale and I feel so cold. I haven't taken any of my meds I was prescribed by that dodgy doctor and have actually begun to feel worse than I did when we had been Thailand bound. I close my eyes and grit my teeth trying to ignore the pain.

'_BANG!' _My eyes fling open and there it is, the moment I shot Mr Injamin all over again. I jump in my seat and stare down at my hands shaking in front of me. I see stars the harder I stare. I try to get focused, glancing round and fixing my gaze on Abel. He's out of focus, all blurred and moving. My eyes roll back in my head as my heart rate increases. I pant for breath feeling slightly claustrophobic. I tense, clenching my fists tightly and my nails dig into my palms. I can' take this intense pain, I feel sick to my stomach.

As the small whimpers of pain escaping my lips increase and get louder they catch Abel's attention. He summons for an attendant and demands a glass of water for me. She hurries away and he focus his full attention on me, he places a firm hand on my forehead. When she returns with the glass of water he snatches it. I have doubled over, my head almost in my lap. Sliding his hand under my head he firmly grasps my forehead and pushes my head back slowly. The plastic of the glass meets my lips and he gently begins to pour. Water collects in my mouth and I'm incapable of swallowing. I cough as the water collects in my throat, overspill runs from the corners of my mouth dribbling down my chin and neck. He immediately stops pouring and urges me lean forward and cough it all up before I choke.

Once clear I cough and splutter further, a dribble of blood runs over my lip and hangs idly before dropping to the floor. Still coughing the blood continues to spew from my mouth. The attendant is still hovering over us, trying to offer up suggestion but Abel rudely yells at her to 'mind her own'. Dizziness takes over and I feel very faint. My whole body now trembling, nervous sobs escaping and radiating throughout my body and tears streaming from my eyes. An icy blast from above sweeps through me and I violently shiver. I cry out in pain as the aching in my head has spread from just the left side to all over. "Hang on in there miss, we'll be landing shortly" says the attendant calmly.

Abel stands obviously wound up by her innocent comment. "Why don't you just fuck off!" he yells rudely, pushing his face into hers. She takes a step back, cautious of the angry man towering over her. She is only small, just over five feet and of small build, she looks timid and shy as he continues to harass her. I place my hand on the back of the seat in front and force myself to stand, my legs like jelly and unwillingly trying to support me. "Leave her, she didn't .harm." I say inhaling deep breaths between the last few words. He turns to me in a flash of rage as though he's about to address me in the same manor as the poor girl. I take a step forward and the whole cabin spins, I'm overwhelmed and then I hear that voice and it echo's around the cabin. _'it's your fault, you made me do it.'_ I manage one last deep breath before I collapse.

I feel the faint motion of a steady rocking. I flutter open my eyes slowly. I don't quite absorb where I am straight away and allow my eyes to open and close before opening them fully. I see in front of me a black leather chair, sort of familiar but I can't place it. I turn and gaze through the tinted glass window on my left. I can see sparse fields of white. A shiver runs down my spine and as I gently look down I see goose pimples at the base of my wrist. I'm still dressed in Abel's jacket and the tattered dress. Taking another look outside I piece it together slowly, we made it off the plane. We must be back in Russia!

"Peter" I mumble but get no response, the white fields continue to flash by as the car picks up speed. "Peter" I mumble again a little louder. I feel a hand place it's self on my arm "You ok?"

I recognise the voice and a tiny pang of disappointment hits me when I realise it is only Abel. I don't respond to his question, I keep quiet and try to ignore the increasing pain that is taking over my head. I try hard to remember what happened on the plane, to transport myself back trying to fit together the missing pieces like how I got in this car? Was I conscious?

We approach the house, well it's more like a gangster mansion, but just run down. From the outside it is grey stone, with small dark windows. Doesn't look friendly, isn't friendly. As the car pulls up outside and stops Abel hops out and slams his door shut abandoning me in the back seat. I haven't yet seen who is driving but they are quick to exit also. I hear footsteps crunch through the ice and come to my side. The door clicks open only to reveal Emilio! I gasp, he's alive but Abel had said at Belgorod that he'd been caught. Maybe he didn't have any drugs on him after all; perhaps they suspected me and he did it to save my life? It's too much to think about and leaves my head sore.

Emilio reaches in, a stern unwelcoming look on his face as he pulls me from the car. He carries me away and into the house. It is as cold and damp as I remember and gives me the chills. He walks straight up a flight of stairs and down that familiar dingy corridor. He sets me on my feet and taps on the door. Not being able to support myself I lean out and place a palm against the wall. I'm only standing for a matter of seconds before the door opens and Mr Azarov and Rafael greet us. I swoon and Emilio catches me in his arms, he bends and reaches under my knees so he's cradling me once again and walks in. He lays me down on the bed, I look up as Rafael hovers over me with a gleaming smile showing a small flash of gold tooth. "Carla?" croaks a voice beside me. I turn to my right and Peter is staring at me through hazy eyes. "Peter" I mutter breathlessly wanting to reach out and touch him but I just don't have the energy. As I gaze upon him still pale and drawn a single tear escapes, "I thought I'd lost you" I murmur as the tears begin to pour from my eyes.


	33. Chapter 33

"Baby, please don't cry" he says his voice croaky and his trembling fingers run across my hand before clasping it gently. His touch is tender but his hand is ice cold. I can't help myself, it's just a relief that he's ok, I'm ok, well best that I can be given the hell I've been through and I'm back at his side. The tears fall freely running down my cheeks and dropping onto the pillow. Azarov and Rafael have since left us alone but I sense they'll be back soon. I find the energy to turn on my side and shuffle closer to Peter.

He smiles down at me his lips dry and tinted blue. "Peter are you ok?" I ask in a shaky voice. He is shivering in front of me, shaking violently, his bottom lip trembling slightly and he looks a bit like Jack at the end of that Titanic film. He gives me a weak nod and keeps smiling. "You're so cold" I state my voice still shaky and I squeeze his hand. Snuggling in close to his side I wrap my arm across him and give him a hug. My head rests at his shoulders as he continues to shake, the tears still falling as I close my eyes.

I begin to stir, my head moving back and forth on my pillow as my eyes slowly open. I rapidly blink and my head is once again pounding. Looking over the edge of the bed I see the big wooden door, feel the cold, damp chill in the air and suddenly realise where I am. I fling myself over on my other side remembering Peter is beside me but am met by just the blankets. "Peter" I mutter under my breath. This isn't real, I sit up and frantically search every inch of the room with my eyes. "Peter?" I call out a little louder but it fades into the silence.

Panic sets in as my head throbs, I moan as a shooting sharp pain occurs directly from the wound. It takes over my whole head, worse than the pain of a migraine. My breathing is short and sharp and I throw back the covers and swing round to place my feet on the floor. It's freezing and sends a shiver shooting through my body. I rise to my feet slowly and wobble slightly. I lift my arms out from my side to get my balance and once found, take a deep breath. "Peter!" I shout as loud as I can and am confused as to why he is suddenly not there. Did I imagine it? Was I dreaming?

"Peter, Peter please, where are you? Peter!" I cry out but hear nothing and no one seems to come running. I turn and stare hard at the bed through blurry eyes as unformed tears cloud them and hoping Peter will appear and that this is all one big nightmare but I don't see Peter. The tears escape and plummet to the floor barely touching my cheeks. The bed goes out of focus before reappearing sort of in focus again and I'm shocked by what I see.

Blood is smeared across my pillow. I wonder for longer than I should where it has come from, you'd think I'd realise. Then it hits me, I raise my hand to my head and feel the dried blood that has matted some of my hair together. It doesn't feel like it's been bleeding at all. I move my palm all over the left of my head and then I feel it, the sticky congealed mess and the feel of fresh blood. I pull my hand away and bring it before my blurred gaze and it's once again covered in blood. No wonder I had awoken with a splitting pain in my head.

I hesitate for a moment but I want to find Peter, I'm certain that when I fell asleep he was by my side. I head for the door, taking small steps and stopping every time as a fresh pain takes a hold of my head. Reaching the door I wrap my sweaty, bloody palm round the handle and pull it open. It takes all the energy I have and before I can step out I lean against the door for support and take a few deep breaths. When I feel ready I slowly make my way out into the dingy damp corridor and walk off towards a well-lit area to my left.

The corridor is deserted but I can hear faint voices in the distance. Following them I hope they'll lead me to Peter. There is a creak from a floorboard as I take my next step and I freeze on the spot. Waiting I expect to hear the rush of footsteps but nothing. I bravely take another step forward and continue down the corridor. I lose my balance as I approach the door from which the light is shining. Falling against the wall I place my flat palms onto the damp concrete wall and catch my breath, a wave of dizziness takes over my whole body and the corridor spins, the light twisting before my eyes. I claw at my face, raking my fingers up and down my forehead as my nails scratch against my skin. I scream out as my whole body is in pain. I stumble forward clinging to the wall for support, _'must find Peter, must find Peter' _whirling around in my head.

I stop instantly doubling over in pain, crying out as a dull ache develops deep in my tummy. My knees go weak and cannot support me. I fall into the wall my whole right slide pushed against it trying to keep me on my feet but I just can't seem to support myself. I let myself slide down the cold brick wall and continue to cry out begging for the pain to cease. "Please, please" I continue as blackness descends in front of me.

Ice-cold water washes over me and I fling my eyes open. Rafael stands in front of me holding a bucket now only containing drips of the liquid he has just doused me in. I glare at him not understanding his actions and feel annoyed. I go to get up from where I find myself sat but am restrained. Both my wrists and ankles are tied individually to the arms and front legs of the chair. I wrestle against them but the rope just cuts into my flesh. "Where's Peter?" I shout at him accusing him of the mysterious disappearance. Giving an evil smirk and nodding he replies with a snigger "behind you, but you just leave him, you and me need to have a little chat"

"About what?" I snap feeling brave but suspect I know.

He smirks once more and gives a scoff "You know" he says confidently. What is he a mind reader or something?

I feign innocence and pretend I don't know what he's talking about. When I don't reply he closes in on me placing his hands over my wrists and leaning in close. "You fucked up!" he spits.

My breathing hitches. What the…?

"What do you mean?" I ask timidly.

"You killed him and now you're going to pay" he says reaching for his inside pocket.

My eyes widen in fear and I swallow deeply as he reveals a phone. A phone? That's a relief I was expecting a gun.

"Listen!" he orders pressing a button and throwing it in my lap. I hear a deep heavy breathing before a message.

"_**LOPEZ! I know what happened to my brother and I know who's responsible. You will pay. SHE will pay!"**_

It clicks off and I can't take my eyes of it, the haunting tones of the deep Thai voice I've just heard echo around the room.

"He's right, YOU will pay!" He spits out at me, eyes bulging from their sockets.

Pay. Pay how?


	34. Chapter 34

Circling the chair Rafael bangs on and on about Thailand. Occasionally he stops and pauses in front of me, leaning in close and whispering evil little remarks in my ear. Threats of what he _might _do to Peter or me. Each one making me angrier and angrier as I pull on my restraints trying to show him I'm strong and I won't stand for this abuse. Every time I do he laughs a deep hollow sound from deep within escapes and he takes a step back. He continues this ritual for a while longer before shouting out for Abel.

Abel enters and assess the situation, trying to read his expression I can't tell if he's genuinely confused by the whole situation or just playing along with Rafael's sick little game. He looks quizzically over at Rafael. "You know the drill bro," he says smirking at Abel. He smirks back and reaches for the inside pocket of his jacket and produces the automatic. The scene from that dingy basement in Thailand springs to mind and I hear the gun go off, everything in slow motion. The bile rises in my throat and I get butterflies in my stomach. Abel tosses the gun through the air to Rafael and he catches it firmly above his head.

Watching them if this was an innocent scene they could pass for two little boys playing catch with a ball but the reality of it is that they are members of a dangerous gang and I unfortunately have managed to disappoint. He twists the gun round his index finger effortlessly. They circle me like sharks and my breathing is short, sharp. I'm on edge adrenalin flowing once more through my veins. I pull on the restraint ignoring the pain of the rope cutting into my wrists as my chest rises and falls rapidly. The silence is awkward and makes me nervous, I want to know what they're planning.

Finally Rafael stops in front of me with that smirk again. "What do you want?" I ask firmly.

"Oh Ms Connor, you see you only had one simple rule to follow" he says raising his hands in the air as he gives a shrug. He shakes his head as he continues. "But, you just couldn't behave could you?" He spits his expression turning sour. "Could you?" he spits again approaching me. I hadn't realised it was a question but have no idea how to respond. He's right up close, his nose almost touching mine. I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.

"Nothing to say. Huh?" he snarls

I keep quiet, no idea where he's going with this. He continues to invade my personal space resting his hands on mine and pushing them firmly into the chair. He still holds the gun in his left and it adds to the pressure. I grit my teeth trying not to scream out in pain as it once again develops in my tummy and my head continues to pound.

"Okay, Carla, have it your way" he says suddenly letting go and standing up straight. He flings the gun at Abel.

"Do the honours"

Do what? What's he doing? I tense remembering that Rafael had said Peter was behind me. Panic takes over and I let out short sharp breaths as my chest constricts.

"I'm sorry," I scream partly mumbling my words. I'll say anything if it means they won't hurt Peter. It doesn't get their attention. "Sorry! Sorry" I continue to scream, strain evident on my vocal chords with each word.

Rafael gives a deep evil laugh and licks his bottom lip. Drops of sweat have formed on my top lip and tears fall from my eyes. "Please, I'm sorry" I cry out again pulling hard on my restraints over and over again. My struggling finally catches his attention.

"Oh Ms Connor, you want to watch" he says sarcastically.

Watch. Watch what? A shiver runs right through me. "What?" I ask confused my voice hoarse.

He smirks, showing a little tooth. He comes over and clamps his hands onto the arm of the chair. Excitement shines in his eyes and I widen mine and don't blink as I stare up at him through my tears. He motions with his head and Abel appears at his side.

"As she wishes," he says nodding. Each taking an arm of the chair they lift it with ease and turn me one eighty. There lies Peter; he looks so peaceful, resting and oblivious to the unfolding events around him. "Peter!" I scream but he still fails to wake.

Rafael and Abel go to either side of the bed. "Shall we wake him?" asks Rafael directing his evil gaze my way. I don't want them to hurt Peter; he's been hurt enough. "Please, please don't hurt him" I say breathlessly. I'm ignored as usual and he continues. Grabbing all the tubes running into Peter's arm he yanks them free in one swift action. Peter wakes instantly groggy and confused, he only stares up and I bite my bottom lip nervously. What are they doing?

Peter gives a few little coughs and looks up at Rafael once more. " .safe? . ?" he mutters, taking long pauses between words for air. "Peter! Peter" I scream without thinking. I see a faint smile grace his lips and he tries to sit up.

"Here, let me help you" he says sadistically. He plumps the pillows and they both help Peter to sit up against them. As soon as he sees me the smile disappears. "Carla?" he asks confused as he continues to gasp for breath. I'm speechless, my mouth drops open but nothing, not a word.

He throws his head in the direction of Rafael "What the…" but he doesn't have time to finish before Rafael butts in.

"Well Peter my friend, little Carla here has been a bad girl" his voice low but exaggerated.

I continue to cry as Peter stares at me with a blank expression. I will him to say something defend me, anything but he stays silent. Rafael lifts the gun and runs it down the side of Peter's face. Peter stays calm, but I'm shaking literally terrified by what I think they are going to do. Eventually he rests it below Peter's chin and pushes it up into his jaw. I see him wince slightly in pain. "Not Peter, please don't hurt him," I cry out.

He pulls the trigger back and Peter swallows hard as he gives in and the tears flow. "Mate, come on please not this, we'll sort it, I'll do whatever it takes," he offers but Rafael ignores him and releases the trigger. I die inside and screw my eyes up tight, I can't watch.


	35. Chapter 35

'_CLICK' _

No gunshot? It didn't go off! My eyes fly open to see Peter sat pale and shaking, I let out a few little relieved laughs. He's ok. He's ok! I feel my whole body shaking from the relief but tense when Rafael moves from his side to mine. He lifts the gun up and inspects it, it's different from the one he held earlier, its not automatic but a small revolver. Completely different to the one he had earlier, how did I not notice when it was being held to Peter?

I watch in horror as he pops the barrel open and spins it. He lifts it and pushes it hard against my temple. Eyes wide I stare directly at Peter, I'm so scared but I'm not going to let any of them see. It's bad enough I've become a weak and broken women because of my past. Everything seems in high definition and slow motion as I hear him pull back the trigger. "NO! No stop" yells Peter. My eyes shut instantly at the release.

'_CLICK' _

"Carla!" he yells out breathlessly. Opening my eyes I see Peter staring at me looking horrified.

The realisation that I'm still breathing kicks in and I break down, deep breaths and uncontrollable sobs followed by a fast flow of tears. I'm still alive. I'm still alive!

Rafael moves swiftly back to Peter's side and pops the barrel once more giving it a spin. I swallow hard and try to pull myself together, I can't breakdown not hear not now. "Stop it!" I scream as he pushes the gun into Peter's temple. He gives a grin "Oh but Carla darling I do like torturing you!" and he pulls the trigger then quickly releases.

'_CLICK'_

Still no gunfire, I can't believe I didn't close my eyes just then. Peter sits trembling in his sheets I know he's scared but he's keeping a brave face and looking stronger than he did last night. "Come on mate, we'll sort something" he tries again as Rafael comes back over to me. I think he's going to spin the barrel and then place the gun back at my temple but he doesn't. Instead he grabs my chin and squeezes as he digs his hard fingers into my cheeks. The rims of my eyes watery and I won't let a single tear escape. I'm unsure of him in this moment and try my best not to look him in the eye. He takes me by surprise when he plants and intrusive kiss on my lips. When he's finished he turns to Peter who is raging. I feel the cold metal of the revolver rise from my throat up the side of my face before resting against my temple.

"That's enough!" yells Peter as I turn as white as a sheet.

"Enough what Mr Barlow?" asks Rafael as if he doesn't know what Peter's talking about.

Peter struggles up against the pillows so he's more upright, "I know your game Raf and I've told ya I'll sort it leave Carla alone. This game, this Russian roulette is sick, stop torturing her" his says his voice firm.

Russian Roulette? Of course, stupid Carla why didn't you notice? I ask myself.

Rafael laughs disregarding Peter's plea and pushes the gun further to my head. He hasn't spun the barrel this time but why not?

"Stop" Peter tries again.

Rafael continues to ignore him and pulls back the trigger. I can't look at Peter so I once again screw my eyes up tight and await my fate.

'_CLICK'_

"Ok that's enough of this madness" I hear Peter. I open my eyes just after the click and his sentence finishes. "Please" I whimper. I wanted to stay strong but I just can't, I can't take anymore of this.

"Please what Carla darling, you want me to end this?" asks Rafael sadistically

I nod, the tears flowing, breaths catching in my throat and small whimpers escaping.

He doesn't reply only holds the gun firm and pushes it into my temple.

"She doesn't mean that, stop Raf now" Peter argues. "Can't you stop him?" he turns and asks Abel who just ignores him. Rafael pulls the trigger back and I give a big sniff as I stare lovingly at Peter.

'_CLICK…CLICK….' _

The bile is sat at the back of my mouth just at the top of my throat. I fling myself forward against my restraints so my head is bowed and then out it spills, watery vomit everywhere. I hear the throw of sheets and groans from Peter. I look up taking deep breaths, a long dribble of spit hanging from my bottom lip. Peter has used every bit of his strength to twist and put his feet on the floor.

It's been at least two weeks since he was shot and I must say he recovered well whilst I was in Thailand. I assume its adrenalin fuelling his latest acts. He wobbles slightly as he gets used to the idea of being on his feet.

'_CLICK' _

The gun goes once more. I eagerly watch Peter as he turns and flashes an angry expression in Rafael's direction. Sliding my eyes to the side I use my peripheral vision to asses the gun, I guess it must be an eight shot maybe a ten but the barrel looks too small for a ten. I mentally try to count up the previous shots, I come to the conclusion that if there is a bullet in that gun it's next and we've just been lucky or he's bluffing.

Peter slowly moves forward, I'm shaking from head to toe still sat forward with my head only slightly raised so I can see. The pressure from the gun is relieved instantly from the side of my head as Peter gets within touching distance. Stretching out my fingertips they brush Peter's as he reaches out for me. Peter freezes on the spot and Rafael gives out a hollow laugh, I can just about see him and he has the gun pushed against Peter.

"Please" I whimper from my chair.

He laughs again "Oh Carla baby, would you rather it was you?" he asks in a patronising tone. I don't answer but the gun suddenly reappears at the side of my head. Falling to his knees in front of me Peter begs me to look up at him, to say something but I'm struggling to breathe. If I'm right about this gun this is the last bullet and it's for me.

'_BANG!' _


	36. Chapter 36

"Carla, Carla come on baby, open your eyes," says Peter.

There is a loud thud against the hard wood floor. I don't want to look, who's been shot now?

"Baby please" Peter tries again his voice desperate.

Forcing one eye open narrowly I look up and see him still kneeling in front of me as before.

"It's ok, baby it's ok" he reassures whilst brushing my hair from my face.

I stare into his eyes still shaking violently the tears reforming and rolling down my cheeks. He seems so calm; he holds my shoulders tightly trying to stop me shaking.

Abel coughs and Peter turns round to him, I look past Peter so I can see also. He stands cool, calm and collected holding the automatic out in front of him. It's aimed in our direction. Sliding my eyes to my left, I see Rafael cold on the floor beside me. His hand still limply holding the pistol and a bullet wound to his head similar to the one he put in Steve's head all those weeks ago on the boat. I turn back to Peter and he's still staring at Abel.

"Peter" but it's barely a whisper.

"Carla?" he turns back to me concern etched on his face.

I swallow hard and gently motion my head in the direction of Rafael's body.

Peter hesitates for a minute but then looks. Blood has pooled around his head and Peter's face drains of all colour as he gazes at the sight before him. Quickly he turns back to Abel "You…You" he stutters but just can't seem to get the words out. Abel nods "I did it, he would have killed her" he explains calmly.

"But why?" Peter asks confused.

"She…she saved my…whilst were in Thailand she saved my life" he eventually blurts out

He turns to look at me; I nod in agreement with Abel. We stare blankly at each other not sure what to do next. Surely Jim and Mr Azarov have heard the shot, if they're still here that is.

"He was a bad man, my brother but he hated me. He was going to kill you anyway at some point." Interrupts Abel.

Peter doesn't look at all trusting of him. Suddenly he reaches for the ropes that bind me to the chair and frantically pulls at the knots to get them undone. With each pull the rope rubs against my already raw wrists. He gives me a compassionate look as he reads the expression of pain upon my face. One wrist is eventually freed and he moves onto the next, just as he loosens the restraint we hear footsteps.

The door suddenly flies open and Jim enters. "What's going on?" he asks confused by the scene. Abel stutters as he begins to give an answer but is soon interrupted by the ringing. The mobile that Rafael had flung in my lap and played the message that was left by Mr Injamin's brother rings out from his jacket pocket. The vibration can be felt through the floor. Jim doesn't hesitate he makes his way to Rafael's cold body and roots in each pocket until he finds the phone. In the press of a button it is answered and he taps it on to loudspeaker. A deep psychotic breathing emerges before it hangs up.

Jim stares at the phone for a few moments before Abel interrupts breaking the silence. "It's him, it's about his brother, he'll find us he wants revenge"

Jim gives him a quizzical stare "What?" he asks.

"Thailand! That is Mr Injamin's brother" Abel explains

The phone lets out a beep and it must have taken Jim by surprise because he drops it and it smashes into pieces as it hits the hard surface of the floorboards.

"We need to leave, get her sorted and then get to the car," orders Jim as he storms out of the room. Abel rushes over and aids Peter in removing the restraints from my ankles. Once I'm free Peter reaches under both my arms in an attempt to lift me from the chair but he buckles beneath me, he's just to weak to hold my weight. Abel reaches across to take me instead. He scoops me up in his arms and makes his way to the door with Peter trailing behind.

Reaching the car I'm thrown in to the backseat before Jim climbs in beside. Mr Azarov is at my other side and Peter sits up front with Emilio who is in the drivers seat. The door opens once more for Abel to climb in before we speed off into the night. I tremble with fear, no idea where we are headed or what is happening. Mr Azarov runs a single finger down my goose pimpled arm before clasping my hand in a strong grip. I jerk my head round to see him gazing at me. My eyes widen as he squeezes my hand.

We must have been travelling for hours in the pitch black, the odd star shining through the blanket of cloud in the sky. I yawn, how can I possibly be tired with all that is going on? Azarov lifts his arm and places it around my shoulder pulling my body close to his. "Rest your head sweetheart," he says. Peter shifts in his seat and turns round to look at me. He watches Azarov pull me closer and stroke my hair blocking our direct vision in the process.

Coughs disturb me and as I choke on them I wake myself. Having disturbed Azarov he lets go of me so I am able to sit up. I look around and notice in the distance we are approaching Belgorod airport.

"Where are we going?" I ask in a croaky voice.

"You don't need to know," answers Jim his tone harsh.

The car screeches to a stop right outside the entrance and they all hurry out abandoning it. Peter takes a firm hold of my arm and whispers in my ear. "It'll be ok baby, I promise."

We follow behind them as they head over to a lone man in a suit. He reaches in his inside pocket and hands them what looks like a bunch of tickets in exchange for a handful of cash.

Jim takes possession of my right arm and pulls me from Peter.

"Hey, what you doing?" Peter yells.

"Come! You go with Abel" he says to Peter as he pulls me away. Abel restrains Peter as he's itching to go for Jim. The distance between us increases as we exit the lobby and head in the direction of the gates and lounges.

"PETER! I LOVE YOU!" I suddenly scream as the realisation that we are being parted again sets in.

"SHUT UP" Jim aggressively orders through gritted teeth as he pulls me from Peter's sight.


	37. Chapter 37

The lock on the door clicks shut as Jim flings me against the back wall of the disabled toilet. I hit it with force and it knocks against the wound I already have on my head. I raise my hand to it and throw a scared glance at Jim. He suddenly seems so tall and scary like he was first time we met. The past few weeks he'd been much more humane and I'd grown to like him but in this moment right now he's a stranger again. I feel the fresh sticky blood as it merges into my tangled hair.

Tears form in the corner of my eyes and my bottom lip trembles, I just want to break down and cry. Jim is still stood still in front of me as I slouch against the wall he says nothing and all that can be heard in the confined space is my erratic breathing. After what seems like an eternity he takes a step forward, it only needs to be the one and he's right up close and our bodies are almost touching.

Taking me by surprise, I let out a gasp as he grabs my cheeks and squeezes till its painful. He pushes his lips to my ear and they brush the edge gently as he begins to speak.

"You screwed up, you know that so you're going to make it right. You understand me?" He whispers his breath warm and wet against my skin. I nod slightly.

"Do you understand me?" he yells making certain I understand him.

"Yes, yes…..yes" I answer as a tear escapes and runs along the side of my nose before reaching my lips where I can taste it. My throat dry and the escaping words are croaky.

He lets go pushing me away and my head knocks back against the wall, pain radiating throughout.

He steps back from me but still I feel it's too close. He's thinking something through but what? Ringing can suddenly be heard from his jacket pocket as his phone goes off. He grunts as he reaches for it, answers it and slams it against his ear.

"Yeah, she's here….yeah she understands….what? Well look for him you idiot!….you mean….na mate….it's cool I'll deal with her and then him."

He snaps the phone shut and glowers at me. Oh no what the hell have I done now and what's happened?

I fall to the floor the impact of his actions ripping through my aching, weak body. The next thing I see is his boot coming for me. He propels it forward with force and my body flies into the pipes that line the skirting. My mouth drops open but I can't say a word, can't even beg him to stop. I gasp for air after I take the second blow; he continues to kick at me for the length of my torso making sure to hit every inch. He finally stops and I think that's it. Whatever lesson he is trying to teach me I promise it has worked.

I lie against the sticky, discoloured lino taking short sharp breathes as I try to suppress the thoughts of how much pain I'm in and concentrate on what's happening around me. Jim stands over me and it scarily reminds me of the way Frank had stood just after he'd raped me. Great now I have that horrible thought in my head again! I just want Peter, I want him to hold me, I want him to kiss me and just tell me everything is going to be ok. I close my eyes awaiting Jim's next move and transport myself to a happier time. I have so many from moments with Liam to moments with Peter to chose from. They all flash before my eyes and a small smile finds it's way to my lips.

I feel Jim's cold hands take grip around my arms dragging me to my feet. Brushing the back of his knuckles across my cheek I just have a gut feeling he is going to strike me again. The seconds tick by before he removes his hand and then in one swift movement smacks it across my face. The bold gold rings he wears scrape across my cheek and I wince as he goes to hit me again. My blood dotted across his knuckles. He continues to hit me until my body buckles and falls again to the floor.

As I gaze up he hovers over me once more, the room now spinning as he starts the routine of kicking. I begin to cough each one becoming more and more violent to the point I almost choke. With all the energy I have left I raise my hands as if to say stop, please just stop but he dismisses the action and continues to beat me. He only stops when a dribble of blood emerges from my mouth. I curl instantly into a ball and try to protect myself from any further harm. He crouches down still hovering and tuts in disgust. My whole body lies trembling before him and I pray he won't touch me but he does. Lifting his hand he gives me a firm slap making my face twist into the disgusting lino.

His knees crack as he rises to his feet, I don't dare look at him I just can't endure any more pain. The lock on the door clicks open and Jim's boots squeak on the floor as he leaves. Staring blankly at the door I watch him close it and then hear him moving around outside. I'm frozen not able to move at all, my whole body aching and screaming out in pain. I feel all the cold trails of blood run across my face and dry against my skin. My head still pounding and my skin having turned that horrible pale shade of greeny blue again.

I continue to cough and suck in deep breaths, the pain of exhaling unbearable as it makes the coughing worse. Blood still comes up and spills from my mouth, the dark red fluid leaks from my mouth and pools beside me on the lino. It's been quiet outside for a while so I try to sit up. My arms are not strong enough to support me so I reach out and grab the sink edge. I just about manage to struggle up to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Staring back at me is a beaten, frightened young girl. She's skinny, she's drawn and pale, unwell looking. He face is stained with blood, her eyes red and dry. Tangled dark hair frames her puffy red patched pale face and pinky bloodstained paths from tears decorate her cheeks. She doesn't look like me at all. I've never been beaten like this in my life and I don't know why it has happened.

I can only stare at the reflection for a few seconds before I fall against the basin. I try to pull myself up again, I cannot get my head around what I've seen, what Jim has done to me or why? Bravely I reach for my cheek but flinch before my fingertips can touch it. One hand on the sink is not enough to support me, it gives out on me and I hit the side of my head as I slip back to the floor. I lie lifelessly for a few seconds before I completely blank out.


	38. Chapter 38

I stir from my unconsciousness my head peeling from the sticky lino as I lift it slightly. My head is pounding and every inch of my body aches. I let out a groan as I roll onto my side and stare towards the door. My breathing is heavy and deep and the coughing begins violently again making my eyes water. My face falls closer to the lino as I bring my knees up to my chest and cling to them. It's painful but I don't care, I'm protecting myself. Silent tears start to flow and form puddles next to the patches of dried blood.

I instantly reach my hand to my face, brushing it lightly with my fingertips but wincing at the pain as I do so. Pulling my fingers away I see no blood. A sickening thought enters my head that maybe that blood isn't mine. I retch and somehow pull myself from the floor. My stomach continues to churn, the little disabled toilet is smelly, hot and stuffy and I can literally taste the vomit lining my throat. Pushing my upper body up I fall back against the wall hitting my head once more and letting out a groan.

Despite the small space I feel terribly disorientated and confused. I look down at my arms and wrists that are now painted with light purple bruises of all shapes and sizes. I gently sweep my thumb over then again and again as I stare pointlessly at the door.

Large tears fall as I close my eyes and once again try to block out the agony I'm in. My mind runs a blank, not a thought in there. I search for a memory anything; I need something to distract me from the pain. A few memories of Liam come to mind but fade quickly into the images of him lying in the street. I don't want to see this, not this. I'm awash with emotions, tears and internal silent screaming that only I can hear. I shake my head trying to remove the thought and blink rapidly when all I can picture is Tony's hard cold stare. It scares me to the point my breathing becomes erratic and my chest heaves.

I can't shake his eyes, they continue to stare at me imprinted in front of my eyes. I'm in a daze, transfixed by the image, his eyes were so beautiful so hypnotic but when he was mad they shone with all the excitement of a serial killer. They shine brightly; glinting in the light he stares at me torturing me knowing that I know what he did to Liam. My Liam.

Fumbling outside the door suddenly interrupts my reverie. My eyes widen in terror fearful that it is Jim, he's back and I'm scared. What if he's come back to finish the job? I can feel my heavy breaths on my chest as a firm grip pushes down on the handle and the heavy door clicks open. A foot appears in the slight gap and bright sunshine floods in merging with the florescent light and momentarily blinding me forcing my to squint. As the tall figure enters the room it creates a shadow and I welcome the blocking of the light. I don't look up to see who has entered; I don't want to get in any further trouble.

"Shit, Carla!" exclaims the voice as they click the door closed behind them.

Crouching down and cupping my cheek in his hand he lifts my face and my gaze meets his instantly. You'd think I'd be more excited but I just can't find the emotions. I stare as if examining a stranger, blank expression drawn upon my face. He pushes my hair back from my face and tucks it gently behind my ears. He looks back at me with despair and I wince as he goes to touch the cuts and bruises upon my face.

"Oh Carla what happened?" he asks softly but I don't reply. I turn away from him not wanting him to see me like this. A few stray unexpected coughs get the best of me and start me choking again, I feel warmth rising up my throat and just assume its bile. When it has collected at the base of my throat it makes me gag and blood pours from my lips and runs down my chin as splashes fly from the coughing.

"Carla, please. Talk to me!" He tries again. I throw my head back against the wall and cry out in agony.

"Please Carla, what happened?" he asks more forcefully.

"Peter?" I mumble my words slurred.

"Yes baby, it's me" he reassures cupping my face with both hands and forcing me to look at him but still I stay quiet.

"Did Jim do this? Just nod your head baby please," he begs, I can see that his blood is pumping hard and fast through his body as rage builds.

"Just tell me!" he says angrily shaking my head as he holds it in his grasp.

I let out a cry of pain, it feels as though my brain is rattling round inside my skull. He instantly lets go realising that he's being too forceful and has hurt me.

I nod in answer to his question and he reaches for me, squeezing me tight in a loving embrace but it's just too much, I push against his chest with my palms.

"Let go Peter let go!" I plead breathlessly feeling claustrophobic.

I can't bear for him to touch me it's just too much. He gives me a confused look but when I smile at him his hardened expression softens and he nods in understanding.

He swiftly stands and goes to the little sink; I turn to look up at him watching his every move. He splashes his face with water and gazes into the mirror before catching a glimpse of me staring. Turning he reaches across me and grabs a wad of tissue. Placing it under the stream of running water he soaks it till it's mushy in his hand. He lowers and brings the tissue to my face gently dabbing my cuts. It's ice cold against my skin and feels very refreshing, soothing in fact. I close my eyes and try to relax.

When he's finished he throws the soggy, ripped bloodstained tissue beside him and is careful not to hurt me as he places a gentle kiss upon my swollen lips. Rubbing his temples he looks around and then looks back at me.

"Come on baby, we have to get out of here" he explains as he rises once more to his feet.

"Can you walk? can you get up?" he asks quickly and I shake my head in response. I'm in too much pain to try and move. He runs his fingers into his hair and firmly grips at the roots. Licking his top lip nervously he removes his hand from his hair and clasps them together.

"Ok here is what we're going to do…" he begins but hushes instantly as movement is heard outside the door.

My heart begins to race once more, the fear of whose there overwhelming me. If it's Jim he'll deal with us both, that's what he said in that phone call. Peter crouches down beside me and lifts my left arm and drapes it around his neck. Slipping his arm behind me he takes a firm grip of my waist and I hiss through gritted teeth from the pain.

The handle is pushed down as before and the sunlight creeps in again, another tall dark shadow creeps across the floor. I don't look up, mustn't look up I don't want to aggravate the situation. "Well, well, well" booms Jim's voice as it echo's off the walls. He stands in the doorway blocking it completely for a few seconds before taking a further step into the room and leaving it clear.

"Now" whisper's Peter and swiftly lifts me from the floor.

Shocked and taken by surprise I scream out in pain and become a dead weight on his shoulder as he tries to make a quick exit. I'm too heavy and weigh him down to the point he's exhausted by the time we reach the door which is only one or two steps. He grabs the door frame to steady himself not ready to admit defeat.

"Mr Barlow" booms the voice as darkness from a tall Russian appears from nowhere in front of us. He blocks the doorway reaching across it with both hands resting on either side of the frame.

Pushing against me I tumble to the ground taking Peter with me. Excusing himself he steps over us and closes the door and clicks the lock shut. Jim moves to his side and reaches down for Peter grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and yanking him to his feet. In one swift movement he has him pinned against the wall with that automatic pressed against his head.


	39. Chapter 39

Jim twists the gun into Peter's temple, making him cry out through gritted teeth. Peter wrestles against his grip trying hard to free himself but every time he does Jim slams him back into the wall. He doesn't blink just stares hard at Jim. "What?" I hear him spit "What do you want now?"

Nobody answers him but they crowd round him in a thuggish style. "What do you want!" yells Peter. They are so pre-occupied with him I manage to pull myself up so I'm on my knees. Crawling carefully I make my way to the door and glance over my shoulder to make sure I've not been seen.

I slide my body up the door using it for support and reach for the handle. My fingers fumble around the lock slipping and losing me concentration I begin to panic and my grip fails me. A small squeak escapes me as Azarov shadows over me and grasps my hand and clicks the lock open. I don't look back I'm like a deer in headlights as I feel his breath beating down on the back of my neck. Suddenly the room is quiet and I notice Peter isn't fighting against Jim.

I turn my head slowly and am met by Azarov's body, I look a little to the right and see Peter his body limp and lifeless slumped against Jim and supported only by his arms. What have they done? Examining the situation more closely I notice a damp rag in Jim's hand. My eyes become watery as I try to hold back the tears. They've drugged Peter but what for? Am I next?

I turn back to the door and push down on the handle it clicks and pings back up knocking me back as the door jumps out of its frame. Its instantly taken control of by the firm grip of Azarov who nods. A loud thump is heard and I turn to see Peter has fallen to a heap on the floor at Jim's feet. In shock I fall onto my hands as they splay out behind me. They open the door and march out just leaving Peter and myself behind. Is this it? Are we finally free of them?

I push myself across the lino to Peter who's doubled over and has his head facing down into it. Gently reaching out I place my hand to his head but he doesn't move, not a reaction at all. I sniffle starting once again to cry. "Peter" I mumble but it's useless, cupping my hands to either side of his face I lift it and give him a little shake. Still nothing. Using every last bit of strength I can find I push him back so he's sat up against the wall. Still in agony I crawl to the sink. Locking my hands to the side I haul myself up and reach over to turn on the cold tap.

The water spits off the porcelain splashing a light spray back up in my face. I force myself up further and use my elbows to support my weight on the edge of the basin. The cold flow hits my hands and starts to pool in the palms of my hands that are cupped together. Moving back I turn to Peter as the water slowly seeps through the gaps between my fingers. Throwing it over Peter's face and feeling disappointed that there isn't an instant reaction. I stare pointlessly at him for a few seconds before admitting defeat and shifting to position myself at his side. I tightly grip his arm and press myself into his side just wanting to feel him close. Resting my head on his shoulders I close my eyes and begin to drift off as I listen to the stream of soothing water that continues to flow above my head.

"dE-voush-ka? "dE-voush-ka?" I hear faintly and feel a gentle rocking of my shoulder. I stir on Peter's shoulder and look round at him but he is still un-conscious. Looking forward I see an older man, he's wearing a uniform and a small crowd of what look like airport staff have gathered behind him.

"dE-voush-ka?" he asks again. He must be speaking in Russian because I don't understand a single word.

"English" I mutter but my throat is dry and the irritation starts me once again in a coughing fit.

"Miss are you ok?" he asks understanding what I've said.

I'm not sure how to respond, if I say no is it going to get us in trouble with Azarov and Jim and if I say yes are they just going to leave us here? If only Peter was awake, he wouldn't hesitate he'd know exactly what to do. I sit silent staring at the guard.

"What happened here Miss?" he asks gesturing out with his hand to his surroundings.

I continue to cough feeling that warmth again on the back of my throat, tears form and collect in the corner of my eyes as I realise it must be more blood.

The guard lifts me by my underarms and drags me from Peter, I shake my head trying to say no but it's ignored and I'm passed into the arms of another uniformed guard who scoops me up in his arms and whisks me away. As he carries me through the airport walkways I continue to cough and splutter and then I feel it there again the warmth and it rushes quicker and I choke, I can't seem to spit it up. The guard carrying me stops instantly, crouching and placing me against the wall. I'm sat upright and he flops me forward patting my back until a long dribble of the blood runs from my mouth as before.

I take deep breaths as I stare at the puddle of blood between my legs. Resting my arms on my bent knees I bow my head and close my eyes. The tangy metallic taste of blood lining my mouth and my throat makes me want to be sick. A flurry of footsteps can be heard in the distance. I slowly lift my head and instantly feel dizzy. Uniformed men just like the one at my side rush past carrying a lifeless body. I recognise it instantly, it's Peter I reach out my arm stretching my fingertips as far as I can wanting them to bring him to me but they are gone as quickly as they appeared. "Peter" a breathy whisper escapes from my lips.

"Peter" I cry again a little louder bowing my head once more and focusing it back on the puddle of blood before me.

Moments later I'm scooped back into the arms of the guard and he continues with our journey. Upon reaching our destination he drops me onto a bed, almost like those you'd find in a hospital operating room. Turning my head to the left I see Peter beside me, still unconscious. Our beds close enough for me to reach out and take his hand. Slipping my fingers under his palm I feel his cold sweaty skin against mine. I sob loudly as I hold it tight, this time I will not let go.


	40. Chapter 40

I've been staring at the florescent tube light for what feels like an eternity. It flickers and buzzes and occasionally blinks on and off. I take my eyes away from it and stare over at Peter but he doesn't move a muscle. I know he's alive because I watch his chest gently rise and fall. I turn my head to stare up again at the light as it continues to go in and out of focus as I concentrate on it. A dull ache lingers where my wound lies. Its dried up and isn't as painful as it was so I'm hoping it will be on the mend now.

I squeeze Peter's hand as the light blurs out in front of me and burns into my eyes. I screw them up tight and see patches of white bounce off my blackened eyelids as if it was the screensaver at Underworld I stare at everyday. I open up my eyes again and see black dots dance in front of the florescent glow. I'm mesmerised and dazed by it all letting my head rock gently side to side following them. They continue to swim across the light like little fish in a tank but I'm soon disturbed by a few stray coughs.

He squeezes my hand gently and I squeeze back instantly, twisting my head I see Peter as he continues to splutter and cough. I watch him for a few minutes until he begins to choke. My instincts kick in and I'm on autopilot as I sit bolt up right and twist my legs off the side of the bed so they hang. Sliding from the edge I push my feet into the floor and push myself up from the bed. I stop before I can take a step feeling instantly dizzy and clutch at both sides of my head.

Peter continues to choke and cough, no one has come rushing in so I assume they are not monitoring us. I must help him, sit him up, and get him some water, anything. I look back up and the room spins, the light and the colours of the walls merging as if in a whirlpool. I clumsily stumble forward towards Peter's bed. Approaching I firmly press my hand onto the mattress to steady myself before reaching for his shoulders. He's quite heavy but I mange to pull him up and his head falls towards his lap. He continues with the coughing as I pat his back. It's a very throaty sound and you can hear the roughness of his throat.

"Ok baby, it's ok" I reassure him as I gently remove my hand from his back. Looking around the room starts spinning once more. Squinting I focus on a little sink and note a few plastics cups beside it. I stumble across to it, knocking into the edge of Peter's bed and several other tables and stands in the room. I cling to the side of the sink as the black spots return to my eyes and block part of my vision.

Fumbling I reach around for the tap. Finding it I twist it but a little to far and water splashes against the metal basin and up into my face. Reaching across I grab one of the little cups and as I pull it from the stack they wobble before falling to the floor and scattering out across it. I look at them for a minute deciding whether I should scoop them up or not but then I hear Peter still spluttering behind me. Holding the beaker under the tap I watch it fill with water before pulling it away and making my way back to Peter.

My hand is unsteady and water escapes over the rim and splashes into small puddles at my feet as I pad back across the sticky lino to Peter. He's sitting with his hands over his eyes as I approach hacking away. "Peter" I say softly as I crouch down and push the cup in front of him and place it against his lips. He lifts his head from his palms and wraps one hand around the cup and mine. He takes a welcome sip of the water and drips linger on his lips. He takes a deep breath and one last cough to clear his throat before taking gulps of the remaining water.

Finishing he places the cup to his side and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth before taking a few gasps of air. Panting he turns to me standing swaying at his side. I feel very faint and push into the mattress with my palm my fingers widely spread digging into the soft surface to steady myself. I give him a weak smile and he stares at me eyes wide and watery where they have been irritated by all the coughing. Losing my balance I fall forward and have to steady myself before I fall into Peter's lap.

Reaching out he clasps my arm, his grip firm but his hand shaking. He gently eases me down so I'm perched on the edge of the bed. He then wraps his arm tightly around my shoulders and hugs me tightly. He places his head on my shoulder and plants a light soft kiss on my neck. "Thank you baby" he mutters and I feel his warm breath tickle my shoulder. "For what?" I ask.

"Coming with me and putting up with all this. I love you Carla" he replies as he places another kiss on my neck.

I bow my head and break down, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hey" he says squishing me closer to him and bringing his other arm up and across my chest.

I turn into him and heave into his chest, soaking his t-shirt with my tears. I've been through so much; we've been through hell on this so called _'adventure'_.

He strokes my hair comforting me as I rest against him, our two erratic heartbeats beating out of time. Eventually I pull away my eyes dry and itchy where the tears have now ceased. Peter smiles at me and I sniffle not letting my nose run. "What?" I ask him suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

"You know what, you even look stunningly beautiful when you've been crying" he says giving a boyish grin.

"Peter" I scold playfully as I let out a tiny giggle.

He pulls me back closer to him and hugs me tight. "Come on baby, let's get out of here," he suggests.

"And go where?"

"Just come on, before someone comes looking for us."

He twists his legs off of his bed and hits the floor firmly before offering out his hand to aid me. Holding it tight he waits for me to get my balance and then heads to the door as I follow obediently behind him. He crouches slightly and pulls it open just a touch so he can peer round and assess the surroundings. He places his foot at the base of the door between it and the frame to keep it ajar and turns to me.

"Ready?" he asks and I give him a nod. Now is not a good time to mention that I'm feeling faint. He smiles and pulls the door wide open and gestures for me to step out.

The waiting area is bright and its only a yard or so to the sign marked exit. Peter stands beside me and takes a quick glance around. He slips his hand in to mine and takes me by surprise as he moves off and I almost trip over my own feet as I get level with him. Casually we walk out into the buzzing crowds of the airport terminal and Peter halts to look around again. I notice a few people staring at us but Peter seems focused on whatever he is planning. I shyly bow my head and stare down at my feet. Thick with grime, grubby and dusty with small cuts and bruises all over and all my black nail polish chipped. Desperately in need of a pedicure!

Peter squeezes my hand again and smiles down at me "ready" he mouths and I nod in response. We fly through the masses and head for the exit. Outside it is getting dark and the sky is an inky shade of blue intercepted with heavy patches of dull cloud. All new customers entering Belgorod are drenched as rain pours and my bones ache at the thought of going outside.

Reaching the door Peter removes his leather jacket and wraps it around me, He holds my arms tight and takes a deep breath. "Ready?" he asks.

I nod but I'm really not, with every movement I make my body aches and pains increases, the dizziness I feel is overwhelming. He gives me a reassuring smile and leads me out into the ice-cold rain. We have no money, what the hell is his plan? "Peter" I say as I tug at his arm.

"One minute baby," he says distracted by something.

"But Pet….." I try again but don't have time to finish my sentence before I feel myself falling to the ground.


	41. Chapter 41

A loud clap of thunder makes me stir and my eyes blink open. Rain pours and I can see a sideways view Peter pacing holding a newspaper over his head for protection as cars fly passed him and splash as they speed through the puddles. It's like a dull grey sheet between us and the pitch-black night sky is covered in dark cloud. The wind has an icy chill and I shudder as a blast hits me. Sheets of newspaper fall from my arms and chest as I sit up. Looking around I note that I'm sheltered in a doorway, it's dark and dingy made of old stone with a faded red door.

"Peter" I call out over the noise of the traffic, thunder and a loud crack of lightening. He doesn't hear me first time so I try over and over before I finally get his attention. Turning slowly he clocks that I'm awake and jogs over. He crouches beside me cupping his hand around my cheek. "You gave me such a fright at the airport. You ok baby?" he asks his voice soft and low. I give a smile and a small cough. "What are we doing Peter?" I ask curious as to why we are sheltering here in this rain.

"I don't, I didn't have a plan. You warm enough?" he asks as he rubs his arms and shivers before me. I move to remove myself from his jacket but he stops me and pulls it back around me.

"Keep warm baby," he says putting his arm around me huddling in close as he sits on the damp edge of the concrete doorstep. I feel his violent shivers as he holds me close and kisses my cheek. I hold him tightly trying to share what warmth we have left. There is a continuous roar of thunder and several flashes of lightening, they take me by surprise and I jump. Peter gives me a re-assuring squeeze.

We watch out as rain splatters and splashes off the soaked pavements, passers by hurrying about attending to their business and setting up stalls in a near by market. Stronger icy winds whirl around us, blowing my hair all over and into my face. I'm now shivering just like Peter and I can hear his teeth chattering through his narrowly parted lips. Pulling away from me Peter pulls himself up and onto his feet. I watch as he walks away to nearby discarded rubbish from the market. He grabs some damp cardboard and a tattered rag before returning to me. He drapes the blanket over me and tucks it under my body. It smells musty and old, has cigarette burns and is covered in stains but I'm grateful for it. Hugging the cardboard box to himself he takes his place back at my side and I wrap my arms around his waist as I rest my head on his chest.

"Peter Barlow!" booms a voice. I feel vibrations as Peter talks from his chest and flutter my eyes open to see. A tall man dressed in a thick winter coat hovers above us. "Hi" says Peter his voice enthusiastic but croaky. Gently lifting me from him he stands to greet the stranger giving him a firm handshake. Rain lashes down upon him dripping from his hair and running down his face getting in his eyes as they continue to get acquainted.

Eventually he turns back to me and introduces me, the stranger gives me a charming grin and sweeps down lifting me in his arms and brining me into the rain. There is a fresh crack of lightening and a clap of thunder as hail starts to fall. "My car is just around the corner, come on" he says hurrying Peter to follow as he rushes off.

'Beep, Beep' goes the car as it's indicators flash signalling its unlock. I slid against the leather as Peter jumps in beside me and his newfound friend runs round and hops into the drivers seat. The engine roars into life and the wipers frantically dart back and forth on the windscreen. Rain patters against the roof and hits the windows at full force. Cranking the gear into reverse the stranger whips the car round before switching on the lights, they beam off the shop windows in front of us for a second before the tyres screech and we go speeding off.

We travel at top speed through winding back streets with run down housing. People walking the streets are doused with water from the puddles as we sail through. Staring over at Peter I give a weak smile and he stares back at me reaching for my hand taking it firmly in his grip.

"Peter, do you actually know him?" I ask in a hushed tone hoping the stranger won't hear.

He gives a nod and then whispers back. "Mate I met when I borrowed money from him, he's Steve's mate"

Steve's mate! "Peter have you lost your mind?" I whisper back through gritted teeth.

"Carla, he's ok, he's the one who was keeping Steve away from me all this time" he whispers as the Stranger becomes aware of our hushed interactions in the back seat.

"Everything ok?" he asks raising an eyebrow as he watches us in the mirror. I turn and face out the window as Peter just answers with a simple yes. We've left the populated area and now seem to be out in dark country roads, desolate and only the headlights on the car to guide us.

Peter scoots across the seat and places his hand on my shoulder. I don't react and I won't look at him but can see his reflection staring at me in the dark car window.

Tears run again down my cheeks, their warmth causing a strange sensation on my frozen cheeks. Peter moves his hand up and down my arm and it rubs awkwardly against the patchy leather of his worn jacket. "Carla" he tries testing the water. He knows I'm upset with him and annoyed that we are back in the company of someone associated with all those thugs we have already encountered. When I don't reply he pulls away and I give a shiver, I don't want to fall out with him not here and not now but he must realise this is a silly idea. It's just going to take us back to square one at the mercy of Azarov, Jim and crew.

The four by four slows as it approaches a small ornate two-story house. A smattering of snow lies on the ground and as the car pulls into the drive the headlights illuminate the house momentarily. Stopping the car the Stranger pulls on the handbrake and jumps out. Snow crackles as he tramples across it and opens the back door so Peter can step out.

"Carla" says Peter when I don't turn to him but I continue to ignore him pressing my head against the icy glass of the car window. "Carla" he says a little more annoyed and I hear footsteps before the stranger arrives at my door. I scramble away from the door as I hear it click open. I'd feel better with Peter so I turn to him and let him lift me from the car.


	42. Chapter 42

Upon entering the little house it is not at all as I expected. Furniture is sparse and what is there is old and worn. Tattered miss match curtains hang from each of the little windows as dust sits in the corners of the pane of glass. Dim lighting casts shadows around the dark open plan downstairs and a rough looking staircase sits in the middle. It's not warm and I can see my breath before me like smoke as it merges with the surrounding air. The Stranger throws some logs on the small open fireplace and lights it up. It gives a soft, warm glow and radiates a heat just in front of it as the windows steam up.

"Take a seat," says the stranger as Peter and I stand beside the worn sofa. I have my arms firmly round his waist and he hugs me back with an arm round my shoulder. Looking down at me he gestures for me to take a seat first. I expect it to be lumpy and uncomfortable but as I place myself down the cushion absorbs me. Peter takes his place beside me and places his arm back around my shoulders.

"Can I get anyone a drink?" he asks chirpily as he clatters around in the small kitchen area.

Peter replies asking for a tea one sugar and a strong black coffee. I don't think I can stomach a drink right now though.

I stare into the flames as they flicker and spit thinking how they look so romantic. My mind flickers back to that night with Liam. The night he came back after blaming me for everything. I remember him standing there in front of me soaked head to toe looking like a drowned rat. That's when you'd have a fire like that. I could have lit it and we could have sat in front of it as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear. It was still special though even minus the fire. As the flames continue to flicker I see Liam, smiling out at me telling me that everything will be ok. As I begin to feel the effects of the fire on my cold limbs I let a small smile touch my lips as I hear Liam's voice.

'_It's how it is, I love you' _

My heart melts at the words. It was always such an emotional roller coaster with us. I continue to stare into the flames as the show reel entitled _'Carla and Liam' _plays on loop in my head. The sound of his voice is so comforting and I've blocked out anything happening around me and seem to have forgotten where I actually am. It's all going so well until we get to that fateful night, that horrible nightmare of a night. Somewhere between my hen party and Tony's stag night where Liam loved me, only me and was ready to sacrifice everything he had to be with me.

'_You'll never feel this way about anyone else. You'll go to bed missing me and you'll wake up aching wishing I was there' _

He was right and he still is, I'll never feel the way I did, no do about Liam. Not even Peter. He was even right about my stomach flipping every time he walked in the room. It even flips as I sit here now thinking about him, his soft touch, his loving embraces, his boyish charm and that prize-winning smile. I wish he was here, I mean I know Peter is here but he's not Liam is he. The smile drops from my face as I remember telling him I didn't love him and before I knew it he was gone. Forever.

'_I'll haunt you'_

He was right about that, he does, almost every hour of every day. If I had just seen sense and gone off with Liam I wouldn't be stuck in this absurd situation with Peter. I feel myself losing the thought of Liam and returning with all the anger I feel about this adventure right now. Before my feelings can bubble over and burst out I'm lifted from my trance as the stranger hands me the coffee. I take it cupping it in my cold palms and give an appreciative smile.

I stare down into my coffee, like a black abyss and it reminds me of how I feel right now. Lost in a place I don't know, unaware of what will happen or could happen and the impossible thought that we might never make it back to Weatherfield. As I begin to wonder what might be going on at home, the world to which I have lost my connection I just hope Rob isn't destroying my business but before I can think too much in depth about the whole situation I am interrupted by the conversation between Peter and his new acquaintance.

"Yeah, look mate I'm sorry, I knew about the boat but I swear I didn't know about this Rafael you speak of" he says. He knew about the boat? What the hell! I told Peter he was just going to lead us back to trouble. The rage builds again inside, rising up through me and bubbling at the edge. Go on please carry on talking I really want a reason to scream and shout at Peter and to say I told you so. I don't hate him right now but I have a touch of resentment.

"It's ok mate, I'm sure none of this is your fault. Look I just need to get Carla out of this. Back safe and with the holiday she deserves. Can you help us?" Peter asks the stranger.

Oh a little common sense there, really smart move telling a complete stranger our plans to escape! Seriously Peter are you going to make anymore of these stupid decisions? I shake my head letting him know how silly I think all this is. They continue their conversation as Peter enlightens the Stranger into the events of the past few weeks and then he returns the favour by telling him how he can help us.

The road outside is quiet and nothing has passed by since we arrived. It all happens so quickly, light from the headlights of a car fly across the room as something speeds up. Suddenly the engine has ceased and the Stranger wanders over to the small misted up window and using the sleeve of his shirt wipes it clear and peers out.

"What's happening?" asks Peter as he turns and stares at him but he has no time to reply before we hear gunshots.

Stupidly I let out a scream, it's a little hoarse but still high pitched. The Stranger stumbles back his hand clutched to his chest before turning to us. Peter instantly jumps to his feet to aid him as I cower on the couch. This is only going to end badly. Footsteps can be heard as the icy snow cracks underfoot of what could be mistaken for a whole army. The Stranger pries his hand from his chest knowing he has been hit and Peter panics at the sight of the blood.

"You must go, run," says the Stranger breathlessly pointing towards the back through the kitchen area.

Motionless Peter stands before him rooted to the spot but I've jumped to my feet and moved straight out in the direction I have been told.

"Peter!" I yell over to him but he ignores me.

Suddenly the door swings open letting in an icy gust of wind that ruffles the curtains. Standing tall in the doorway is Azarov, Jim and Abel like the super villains they are. How on earth did they find us? We lost them at the airport didn't we? Transfixed by the fact they are stood right there again I'm suddenly taken by surprise as an arm swings around my neck and grabs me. Screaming again I gain the attention of Peter and as he turns you can see the panic etched on his face.

His stranger friend has fallen back against the wall and lies almost lifeless as blood continues to flow from his chest and pool on the floor around him. His eyes wide and staring directly at me, it's so creepy it's like being stared at by a dead man. I recognise the tattoo on the arm that holds me hostage. It's a small scroll with foreign writing and belongs to Emilio. Feeling a sharp digging sensation in my back to the left I stand as still as possible and await their next move.


	43. Chapter 43

Peter erupts at the sight of me once again being held hostage and flies around to address the dying stranger in the corner. "You did this, you tricked us" he accuses. The stranger goes to speak either to defend himself or apologise but is not given the chance when Azarov lifts the gun and shoots at his head. Before I know it I vomit and it runs down Emilio's arm.

Reacting he instantly releases me and makes his way to the sink to wash his arm, obviously confident that with the gun action Peter and I won't make a run for it. Without hesitation Peter comes to my side and takes a firm hold of my hand. He knows full well that the stupidest thing to do right now is talk to me so he stands silent and he's right to. Wrapping his other arm around my waist he helps me stand up straight once more. We stand idly as we listen to the moans and groans of Emilio about the smell.

I look over my shoulder and see the back door wide open where Emilio snuck in. The draft where both doors are open runs right through us. A sudden gust of cold air wipes out the fire and we are left I an ever growing colder space.

"Emilio!" Yells Abel across the room as they step inside and close the door.

He has lost control to hold me hostage now Peter has me but how are we going to get away.

"What do you want?" asks Peter addressing Azarov clearly. He gives a smile and Peter continues. "On the plane, the jet you said you'd let us go. What do you want with us?" he asks again his tone forceful. I quite like this side of Peter it re-assures my faith in him that he can and will protect me.

Azarov clears his throat and then speaks. "I know but that was before your little girlfriend here killed someone who's family is now baying for her blood or the ones who sent her, which unfortunately now Rafael has gone would be me. So you see Mr Barlow she needs to be handed over," he explains.

"Why didn't you leave her behind when they came to the house?" asked Peter.

"I didn't know then it was her they wanted, Mr Lopez here informed me of the situation. I arranged for them to pick her up at the airport but you interfered with that" he spits out at Peter.

I feel Peter clench all his insides, thank god he'd broken free and come to rescue me but he feels guilty I can just sense it.

"Now I have arranged another meet so you'll come with us without any trouble or I'll kill you and just take her" he continues.

"I understand, lets go," says Peter. What the hell is he thinking? If we go with them he's practically just killed me.

"Bring them Emilio," orders Azarov as he opens the door and leaves with Jim and Abel. We hear the engine on the car start up and Emilio comes up behind us. Peter pulls me suddenly in the direction of the back door as the clumsy Emilio trips over his own feet trying to stop us. My bare feet tingle as they meet the cold snow and I pad along behind Peter as we hear Emilio shouting out that we have run.

My heart beats so fast it hurts as we attempt to run through the forest area at the back of the house. This is easy for Peter he has his boots on, my bare feet are taking yet another battering and slip and slide on the patches of snow that have become domes of ice. Our warm breath can be seen on the freezing air as we bob and weave through the leafless trees. Heavy footsteps and distant shouting can be heard behind us.

Peter has picked up the pace now literally pulling me behind as a dead weight. I slip on a patch of black ice and fall forward my face landing in a pile of dirty, icy snow. Peter feels the impact of my fall as his arm is pulled back also. He stops almost slipping himself and turns to me. "Come on Carla" he says impatiently.

I bow my head and cry I want to get up I really do but my ankle radiates pain. It's not broken but I think I've twisted it.

The voices grow getting louder and louder as they approach us. I continue to cry in front of Peter, he tries to comfort me but he still tries to urge me to move.

"I can't," I cry pathetically

"You can, come on Carla"

"My ankle" I explain my voice wobbly. I can feel it swelling and the dull aching that the pain has left. Peter reaches down not taking his eyes off mine and touches my ankle. When I wince he looks down at it, as do I. It's huge, at least twice if not three times the size of my other one.

They're close now, Peter is desperate to escape as am I but I'm in too much pain to run with this ankle, even if it is resting on a block of ice! He reaches down and tells me to place my arm round his neck. "I'll help you ok, we'll hide and it'll be ok Carla I promise, I'll protect you" I nod and screw up my face trying not to scream as he lifts me and we hobble our way through more dense forestry.

Reaching a dark pathway we stop for a minute. "You doing ok?" Peter asks and I take a deep breath before giving a nod. He looks up and down the deserted pathway and notes our surroundings. Getting ready to move he tightens his supportive grip on my waist and heads down the pathway. After what seems like forever we find a small wooden hut, its deserted as well. The glass in the windowpanes has been broken and the door sits at an angle as it hangs awkwardly from it hinges.

"This'll do" Peter says as he helps me over and tries the door. It eventually creeks open and we step inside. There are no lights and all we have is the subtle glow of moonlight pouring in and lighting odd patches. In the best-lit spot Peter helps me sit down on the floor and makes sure his jacket it pulled tightly around me. Feeling around he investigates the small space. "Nothing here baby" he says disappointedly. I don't know what he expected to find in an abandoned shack in the outback in Russia. Dashing out of the door he hurries about outside before returning. He's carrying something but in the dim light I can't make out what it is.

"Peter" I cry out as a freezing heap of snow is chucked upon my ankle.

"We need to get that swelling down Carla. It's all I have" he whispers.

"You'll give me frost bite," I whisper back harshly.

"Carla we need to do whatever we can, we'll stay here tonight but we need to run baby, I will get you home safe, nothing bad will happen. I love you," he whispers.

"Sorry Peter I just…. I just" but he puts his index finger to my lips as he shushes me.

Listening carefully I can hear shouts in the distance. When we reached the path we had two choices, left or right, we chose right but what will they chose? Peter settles down beside me pulling me onto his chest and holding me tight as he shivers, his arms bare and goose pimpled. He rests his head on top of mine as we sit in silence.

Now we wait.


	44. Chapter 44

Growing voices are carried on the wind. I am totally convinced that our breathing is amplified and pumping out like a radar so we'll be found. Peter's teeth chatter and he continuously shivers. "Peter you're freezing" I whisper and I see a cloud of warm breath before me as I speak. He shushes me again as flashes of torch light jump in and out of view. I tilt my head back so it rests on his shoulder and look up at him terrified and completely on edge as we wait to be discovered.

Two voices call back and forth to each other.

"Here"

"Anything"

"No nothing"

"What about"

I recognise them instantly, one is that of Jim and the other Abel. Very clever they must have split up, a pair to the left and the right. My heart sinks, I just know we'll be caught and the punishment is only going to be worse because of this little stunt. The light steadies as it shines in through the window. A concentrated amber glow, it spreads out as its source gets closer to the cabin. Outside the voices boom back and forth and the crackles of ice can be heard with each step.

'_CRACK'_

We both hear the snap of a lonely branch as it's broken underfoot. It makes me jump and Peter tightens his grip on me making me gasp. It's louder than I expected and as I look up the light the torch shines blinds me. Once my eyes have adjusted to the light beyond the glow I see Abel. In that moment my heart stops, Peter and I are like deer in the headlights of speeding four by four. We are all completely still even Abel.

"Anything there?" booms Jims voice as it begins to approach.

Abel raises his finger to his lips and nods at me. I can't take my eyes of him, he's caught us and I'm devastated so why is he telling us to be quiet? Shouldn't he just give us up?

"NO" yells back Abel his voice shaky as he turns away taking the light with him.

"You sure?" Jim quizzes. Oh no he's going to want to look. He only needs to shine the torch in and that's it he'll see us. It's empty, nothing to hide behind not a thing in here other than us.

"Yes I'm sure, It's empty," says Abel firmly. "I told you back there they have run, why would they hide so we can find them," he protests.

I pray he won't carry on, Jim is already suspicious of both Abel and Emilio because they just keep messing up and if he keeps playing this Jim will just know we're in here. There is a long pause as they stand outside silently.

"Come on" huffs Jim and we listen as their footsteps fade into the distance.

In the time it has taken for them to get far enough away Peter has grown colder than he was before. His teeth no longer chatter and his body has stopped shivering. I prize myself away from him and turn to look at him, he's almost blue and although I'm cold I know he needs his jacket more than I do. "Peter" I urge as I stare at him, eyes closed and face expressionless. He groggily stirs and looks at me through glazed eyes. I hurry to remove myself from his jacket and lay it across his chest trying to warm him.

"No Carla you must keep warm" he protests quietly.

"You need it Peter, you are too cold" I explain not letting him push it off.

He gives a weak smile, he wouldn't dare fight me and he knows I'm right.

"Where have they gone?" he says as he becomes more and more conscious.

It is silent outside and has been for a while now. No footsteps, whispers or voices but I assume they could be lurking just up the path or trying to trick us in the hope we'll try and run. I just don't trust Abel and we'd be better off trying to make a move in the morning.

My whole ankle has gone numb. Sitting up I scrape the snow Peter dumped on it off and once it's free tuck it beneath my bottom and sit on it trying to re-warm it.

"We'll go in the morning yeah?" says Peter.

"OK" I reply with a small nod.

Sensing something is wrong he slides across the floor slowly so he's pressed against my side.

"Carla, I know something's wrong, can you just tell me what the problem is?" he quizzes. I shake my head, now is not the time and not the place.

"Please Car" he presses.

I take a deep breath, all those feelings from earlier bubble again at the surface. I don't want to do this now, I'll get upset and we can't afford to fall out.

The wind outside has picked up, howling through the trees and around the small wooden hut we are sheltering in. It carries a cold breeze that forces it's way through the window and imposes upon us like an unwelcome guest. I have sat in silence as Peter attempts to get blood from a stone.

"Carla Please" he says more sternly as if I'm annoying him.

Ok Peter Barlow you want to do this now. You want me to tell you everything that is wrong, oh but where will I start.

I clear my throat. "You want to know what's wrong?" I ask sarcastically raising my voice a little.

"Yes Car Please" he begs

"Ok, well I don't know where you expect me to start" I say clambering to my feet to stand in front of him and address him directly. There is no time for him to interrupt before I continue.

"You drag me off, away from Weatherfield, promising some big adventure and then I end up being beaten, chased and hunted by vicious villains and generally being put through hell" I spit out so quickly I exhausted myself and cough as the cold air upsets the back of my throat.

"I'm sor…." He tries to spit out but I cut him off and continue.

"And you…you have the nerve to ask me what's wrong. This is wrong Peter" I snap my voice hoarse but a shout.

"Carla…." He tries again to say he's sorry but what good is sorry!

"Peter I don't want to hear it, its wrong Peter. You're wrong!" I snap having reached boiling point. I'm so angry with him this is all his fault.

He stares back at me like I've just smacked him in the mouth. Neither of us say a word and I suddenly wish the floor would just open up and swallow me whole. I'm all emotional, there was a reason I didn't want to have this conversation I knew I'd say something I'd regret. I remember how I felt that night Peter told me I was wrong, wrong in his flat and imagine that must be how he feels right now.

Tension fills the room neither of us knowing what to say. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife it's so awkward. I don't know what I expect, did I think Peter was just going to take that and tell me its ok he understands why I'm so mad. Feeling stupid I make a decision and dart for the door my ankle sending a shooting pain up my leg but I ignore it. The door swings open easily as the wind catches it. I step out into the crisp, fresh early morning air and look up and down the pathway, nothing to be seen. I stand still for just a moment deciding whether to go back the way we came or venture further. Inside I hear Peter scrambling to his feet and make a quick decision. I take my first step into the unknown and hobble away as first as I can to put distance between us. After a while I turn and look over my shoulder, I can't see Peter so I assume he didn't see which way I went but then I hear him calling my name. "CARLA!" I carry on ignoring it and pad through the snow.


	45. Chapter 45

It's been snowing for a while now and my feet are freezing as they sink into the deeper snow. Holding my arms across my chest and hugging myself to keep warm I wade on. I mumble under my breath about how stupid Peter is and how much I hate him for all this. As if I hadn't been through enough and he drags me through all this. I'm not convinced at all that he didn't know they were going to be on that boat.

I stop reaching a roadside, the tarmac shines as moonlight reflects from its slushy surface and the bright white snow piled at the edges glows. I can hear Peter's voice as he approaches. I turn and glance over my shoulder, my heart pounds and my breathing is harsh. It's a bit like one of those scenes in the horror movies where a psychopath is chasing the vulnerable girl.

"CARLA" his confused voice calls out.

Instantly I turn my attention back to the road. It's decision time I tell myself only to aware that Peter is gaining. I look left, and then right and back left again, the road stretches for miles with no signs and very sparse lighting.

"CARLA" I hear him shout but his voice relieved.

I slowly turn my head and peek round. He's stood only a few paces behind me and he is still, leaning on a tree and gasping for breath. My eyes wide and full of fear as I look at him, like I'm scared of him and worried he's really annoyed at me for being so stupid and running away.

He takes one step forward and I step back onto the road. "Don't…..Peter don't" I urge shaking my head advising him not to come any closer.

"Carla please" he says edging slowly forward again and reaching his hand out to me. I continue to shake my head and feel the tears developing. Rooted to the spot I watch as he gets closer to me, a fresh tear escaping and warmly running down my cheek with every step he takes. As he stretches out he's almost within touching distance when I jump back and find myself standing in the middle of the road.

"Carla?" he asks concern etched upon his face as he frowns.

"Please Carla, I understand how hard this is. I'm sorry for everything I've put you through and I totally understand if you can't forgive me"

Oh it's good, really good but it's an act how could he possibly understand. I used to think of Peter as my knight in faded leather ever since the day he came to my rescue after Trevor left but he's not that man anymore. He changed when we moved in together he doesn't really love me, I'm just a fix, a drug like the drink.

I stand absorbing his speech feeling overwhelmed by emotion. I honestly don't know whether to kiss him or let go and hit and punch him until I feel better.

He tries to move closer again. "NO! Stay away!" I scream firmly. I don't want his comfort or any loving embrace. I am mad, angry and filled with rage because of what he has dragged me into. He shakes his head as if not understanding why I'm behaving this way.

"Baby, I won't hurt you, please come here"

I shake my head like a stubborn child and pout. Violently I shake as I stand before Peter and feel the full impact of the freezing wind and snow flurries. I'm still only dressed in this ripped tattered dress I was given in Thailand. It looks completely different now, grubby and bloodstained with numerous additional rips and tears. My skin has turned that pale shade again and I know I must move to keep warm.

"Carla, I'm sorry, please you'll catch your death can we just go back to the hut?" he asks calmly. I know he's right and I know it won't help my already deteriorated health to stay out here but why on earth should I trust him? All he's done is led me into more and more trouble.

"No Peter, I told you this is wrong," I scream.

He's suddenly quiet. I don't want to be here anymore, making my decision I start to hobble down the road.

"Wait Carla, Wait" he cries following me, his boots scraping through the slush.

As I stumble along I let the tears flow freely, they come out in waves as I let everything out. I feel so lost and would love nothing more right now than to be sat in my factory discussing lace and detailing for a McNee's order over a strong black coffee with Michelle. I miss Michelle so much, when I was married to Paul I never once thought that she'd end up becoming my best friend. She was right that day and so was Rob, running away with Peter was the stupidest thing I'd ever done.

I stare down at my feet as I force myself to take each step, it feels as though I've been walking forever. I've just about managed to block out Peter calling after me. He's slowly picked up his pace and I know he's going to catch up with me pretty soon. Overhead there is a loud rumble of thunder and then a flash of lightening as a clear bolt strikes the ground ahead of me. I jump reacting to the sudden change in whether conditions. Each flake of snow that lands on me melts instantly and leaves droplets of cold water all over my body.

Once again I find myself lost in a reverie. Liam, oh how could I do that to him? How could I tell him I didn't love him when it wasn't true. I continue to cry as I see vividly all the events that led up to the moment he died. His body was so cold and Tony, he was so, so supportive even though he'd arranged for that to happen. The thought makes my head hurt. I know why Tony hurt Liam but how could he, if he'd really loved me he would never have done it.

"CARLA, OH MY GO… CARLA" I hear from behind me, Peter's voice a panic and instantly dragging me from my memories. I look up, my intention to turn to him and tell him to just leave me alone but then I see it. Two bright shining lights headed right for me. I can't breathe, can't move. It's just like what happened to Liam but he didn't see it coming. The lorry toots its horn, a long deep moaning sound but still I stand in its path unable to move.

"CARLA, CARLA MOVE COME ON" Peter shouts his voice laden with panic.

"CARLA" his voice sounds once more, louder than before but in slow motion.


	46. Chapter 46

There is a long drone of the horn and the screech of tyres before I find myself thrown down against the mound of icy snow piled at the side of the road. The weight of Peter falls on top of me as he collapses. His breathing is heavy and fast as he pants lying still squashing me beneath him. The snow has started to melt against my back and has soaked my tattered rag of a dress. I close my eyes and ignore my surroundings and my head is spinning. Suddenly I am relieved of Peter's weight and take long deep breaths as I try and keep relaxed.

"Carla? Come on baby wake up" I hear as Peter places his hands either side of my head and gives it a gentle shake. He huffs and puffs clearly panicking to check I'm ok and wake me up.

"Come on baby" he pleads desperate to wake me. My eyelids twitch awkwardly before fluttering open. I blink up at an out of focus Peter as he stares down at me all smiley and loving but his expression soon hardens and his mouth settles in a hard line and then he just explodes.

"What the hell Carla? You would've been killed!" he yells right in my face as he sits up on his knees and scratches at his forehead, licking his lips and looking anywhere but at me. I fill up with tears, I know exactly what I was thinking, I hate this its making me so low, as low as all that stuff with Frank did and I just wanted to be with Liam. I shudder as memories quickly flash before my eyes and the tears run across my cheeks and I feel the warm droplets fall into my ears.

"Liam" I mumble from my trembling lips.

"What?" Peter replies turning his attention back to me. He looks really confused as if he thinks I'm asking for him.

"No Baby it's me, it's Peter" he says looking down at me all teary eyed.

"Liam" I mouth in a whisper.

"Liam What?" he says playing along hoping I'll make some sense soon.

"I wanted to be with Liam" I cry my voice croaky and breaking up mid sentence.

Peter still doesn't understand what I'm trying to say. He buries his head in his hands and lets out a distressed groan.

I turn my face and press my cheek into the icy surface and let the tears flow hard and fast. If Peter hadn't rescued me I could have been with Liam now. I screw my eyes up tight and feel the odd salty tear as it meets with my lips. My sobbing gets louder and Peter finally brings his attention back to me. He takes my head firmly between his hands and forces me to look back at him but before we have chance to say anything we are interrupted by the traumatised driver who has nearly just hit me.

"She ok? Please she ok? Not my fault! Not my fault! Senorita in way on road" he stumbles on each word.

Peter turns to look at him; he's scrawny and speaks bad English but is not Russian. His accent is Spanish and he has that golden tan and dark features. Peter rises to his feet and hurries over to re-assure the driver we know it's not his fault and to check he is ok.

I can hear Peter explaining that I'm fine and assuring the driver all is ok and that there is no problem. I watch as he pats him on the back and lets him head off back to his truck which is still purring away at the side of the road. He revs up the engine and is gone in minutes leaving us in the silence we were before. Peter falls down in the snow beside me where I lay motionless and still sobbing over how much I want Liam and only Liam.

"Carla, please will you talk to me. What did you mean earlier you wanted to be with Liam?" his voice calm and gentle as he asks. I can't do this, if he doesn't understand I can't explain, not that I was at that suicidal place again. I shake my head whilst biting my lip nervously. Once again we're in silence and the wind has picked up again with odd snow flurries across the dawn sky. I can't believe it's morning already and we are still out in this snow, barely dressed and stranded.

It's not long until we hear distant voices. Both our senses on high alert and we glance at each other; we know what we must do. Scrambling to our feet we stand still and take a good look at our surroundings before Peter takes my hand and we run off in the direction that the lorry went in. I can't help thinking we should have grabbed a ride with him.

To my surprise the voices have got louder and louder as if we're running straight into them. I turn and see distant figures chasing behind us. I squeeze Peter's hand and he turns to look at me and I nod behind us. He slowly turns his head to look and then stops in his tracks. As I forward my gaze I see it. The four by four, Azarov's, heading straight for us. We're trapped! No way out, hill upon hill of bare trees forest to both sides and them approaching us in both directions on the road.

"It's ok" Peter re-assures as he pulls me in close to his side. The car approaches us at steady speed before stopping only a few inches from us. Azarov bundles out with a new member of his gang unknown to us. Grabbing Peter he tears us from one another and forces us both into the back of the car before joining us. There is an automatic locking of the doors and I expect the car to pull away but it does not. Instead we wait until I see Jim and Emilio approaching. I wonder what happened to Abel?

"He's gone," says Azarov as if he can read my thoughts

"Who?" snaps Peter

"Abel, in case you were wondering. He was dishonest, not loyal at all and he was dealt with," he says evilly before continuing.

"He saw you and tried to help you escape, Jim saw you," He explains.

My mind races, how did he see us? He never even looked into the hut! Maybe he heard us breathing or something. Peter looks mad, like he could kill him. "What now?" he yells wanting answers.

Azarov gives a full grin and then does not say another word as Jim and Emilio climb in.

"What now?" Peter demands only to be met by silence once again

As the sun comes up and shines between the trees we speed off into the distance, destination and fate unknown, again.


	47. Chapter 47

Frozen gravel crunches beneath the tyres as we pull into a lay-by. We have been in the car for hours and the sun has come up and is shining brightly through the crisp white clouds. It shines through the car windows but it is not warm outside at all and its rays carry no heat. As the car pulls up and stops I notice a small black SUV parked in front of us. Azarov and crew are quick to jump from their seats and exit the vehicle and stand perfectly positioned around the bonnet before remotely locking the doors to keep us held hostage.

The other party are not as quick to react as they remain in their vehicle. I'm anxious to see what is going to happen. I remember Azarov saying something back at the Stranger's little house about the arranged hand over with Injamin's brother in exchange for their safety because I killed him to save one of his men's lives who has now lost it anyway. Waste of time that was but then I if I hadn't I never would have got back to Peter.

"Peter, I think this is it" I whisper.

He grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly "This is what baby?" he asks watching them standing around idly.

"The guy from Thailand, you know the hand over that was suppose to happen at the airport" I whisper again as if I think they can hear us.

Peter turns his attention back to me "You think?" he asks as if trying not to believe it. I give a nod, I'm definitely sure of this. He turns back to watch the gang outside as they just stand firm waiting for the unknown to emerge from that SUV.

Seconds later a door opens on the SUV and I have to admit although nervous it's all very exciting and at least is supplying me with a much needed adrenalin boost. Out steps a younger man who then strides confidently to the back door and opens it forcefully. A suited leg appears ended with a shiny black shoe and it firmly lands on the gravel. Pushing out of the car emerges a tall dark haired man and all we see is his back as he straightens his jacket and then slams the door shut.

Spinning on his heel he turns confidently to Azarov and gives a charming grin. I gasp; he looks just like Injamin just younger and a lot more handsome. Shake that thought, what the hell am I thinking? Peter has stopped staring out of the window and has leant forward his eyes darting around the dashboard and drivers seat. He's up to something, I know it because I've seen that look before. My eyes flick back to the scene outside, they are all shaking hands and Azarov and Injamin's brother appear to be deep in discussion.

"Peter, what are you thinking?" I ask him desperate to know what silly scheme he is thinking this time. I don't really have a choice, whatever he is planning I am going to have to go aren't I? He turns to me with a smile.

"Don't you worry about that, just get in that back seat and buckle up" he tells me as he gives his lips a nervous lick.

I grab his arm and he turns to look at me. My face laden with panic, tears forming in the corner of my eyes and hot flush painting my cheeks. He instantly falls back into the seat and cups my face. Moving in he plants a soft kiss upon my cracked, dry lips. Pulling away his lips linger just gently touching mine for a second or two before his eyes meet mine.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

I gulp nervous in a way I do but in a way I don't but who else can I trust? "Yes" I meekly reply.

He smiles and then pulls the seat belt across me, clipping it firmly in place. He glances back out the windscreen and then looks back at me.

"Trust me" he whispers and then he fumbles trying to get through to the drivers seat. The car rocks as he falls into the seat. Don't tell me Peter knows how to hot wire a car! He's going to get caught and just make everything worse but he's said to trust him. I take a deep breath and decide to go to a happy place. Images of Liam all happy and smiling flash before my closed eyes and I hear his voice echo inside my head. I instantly relax back against the plush leather seat but can still hear Peter messing about at the steering wheel.

Suddenly the engine roars to life and the gears give a horrible crunch as Peter throws the automatic into drive. He laughs as he speeds off weaving in and out of the gang who have come running for the car and I scream as they fire shots at us. He must be a bag of nerves up there in that driving seat, keeping a firm grip on the wheel as his knuckles turn white. I dread to think what speed we are doing as tree upon tree flashes by making me light headed and queasy.

Peter's eyes dart from road to mirror and he catches a glimpse of me staring at him. He smiles and pushes down again on the accelerator. He's like a little boy in a racing car, his eyes wide and alight with excitement as he commandeers the entire empty road. I turn to look behind us concerned by his sudden increase in speed and notice the SUV gaining on us. A wave of panic comes over me and I just pray nothing comes flying round any of the bends in the road because it is going to cause one nasty accident.

I look out of the back window again and the SUV is now to close for comfort and Jim is hanging awkwardly out of the passenger window still shooting at us. Peter has slowed slightly for better control on the bends but these men are just fearless and are only catching up with us. The bullets ping against the car's body as they ricochet but bullets continue to fly and he eventually hits the rear window and the glass smashes.

I scream and instinctively duck, Peter flashes his head round to look and then places his eyes straight back to the road. "You ok?" he shouts back to me.

"Yes Peter just keep your eyes on the road" my screams muffled as I release my seat belt and press my face against the cool leather seat.

He suddenly speeds up again as the gunfire continues. Then the worst happens. Jim has managed to puncture the back tyre.

It takes us both by surprise and as the air escapes rapidly Peter loses control of the four by four. He tries so hard to fight against it as it drives its self. I look up just in time to see us heading for the sheer drop at the road edge. Ok so maybe this time I really will be with Liam. Running away the car reaches the edge and no matter how hard Peter tries to fight it the roadside subsides and the front wheels fly off. The car hurtles forward before hitting the ground, toppling and then rolling. I watch Peter in the front seat as he clings to the steering wheel and his seat belt holds him in place. Stupidly I removed mine when the back window was shattered and I'm now being thrown around in the back seat like a spin cycle on a washing machine.


	48. Chapter 48

The car settles at the foot of the cliff and as it does I'm thrown against the widow that has smashed on the way down. I give a few deep coughs and hear hissing and see steam rising from the bonnet. Forcing my head away from the window I look to Peter. He's still pinned by his seat belt to the drivers seat awkwardly but isn't moving, not even in an attempt to escape.

"Peter" I call over in a broken voice and causing myself to cough once again but he doesn't respond. My heart stops beating that second as I fear the worst. He can't be, no he can't be, no not Peter, not dead! I tell myself. The car gives a creek as I move away from the window and rocks a little as I pull myself up on the passenger seat. I don't give it another thought and reach to the driver's side to feel Peter's chest.

I'm relieved when I feel it rising and falling gently and give a sigh of relief. Taking a grip on his shoulder I give him a nudge and repeat his name. He still doesn't respond so I nudge him harder and then shake his shoulder the best I can. The engine continues to hiss away as I do so and the sound becomes increasingly more violent.

"For gods sake Peter, will you wake up!" I yell in frustration. I give up and release his shoulder and hug the passenger seat.

Looking round I see the broken back window and the crumpled metal that was once its frame has been battered so badly there is no way to crawl out through it. The back passenger window is shattered and needs knocking out, it'll shatter with enough force but I shouldn't kick it out with my bare foot but then what choice do I have. If I can get out then maybe I can help pull Peter from the wreckage. To be fair we are lucky that the engine is not yet a light with flame and ready to blow but it won't be long.

My foot shatters the glass and I scream in agony as shards slice my ankle and tiny glass splinters embed themselves in my fresh wounds. It's not a big size but I can fit through easily. The remaining shards of glass in the frame need pushing out. I crawl across the back seat as glass breaks beneath my palms and knees, nipping at my skin. Curling my fingers into my palm and clenching my bare fist I punch out what's left of the glass before sticking my head out the window.

I glance upwards and can see no signs of life from the edge where we fell. I retreat back into the vehicle at the sound of weak coughs escaping from Peter. He appears to be struggling for breath and I really am at a loss at what to do. I go back to the window and lean back out. The ground is not far so I place my hands on either side of the frame and push myself out. Sheer pressure of me pushing against the sharp frame makes it dig into my flesh between my index finger and thumb and I feel the warm blood pour out onto my hand. It doesn't stop me, I grit my teeth and take the pain as I push the last of my body through catching my dress and ripping it further.

Moving my hands I place them out in front of me to support my weight as I kick my legs out and end up collapsing on the snow and wet muddy patch before me. I hear voices, excited and strong coming from above. Great! I didn't realise they'd be hanging around to make sure we were definitely dead or catch us if we dared to escape. Turning my head by twisting my neck at an awkward angle I see Emilio excitedly pointing down and calling back to the others, not taking his eyes of me for long in between.

I scramble to a nearby bush and hide behind it hoping that Emilio has not seen a thing when he looked away.

"Ella ha desaparecido! Fue aquí, pero ahora no" he screams and I do not understand a single word. He seems panicked by it though as if he's in a lot of trouble. The engine gives a bang, a loud erupting sound and I notice a small flame dancing in the wind from the smashed bonnet.

"Peter" I whisper to myself, I want to go back to him but if the others see me they'll come down here after us. If they think we're dead then maybe we have a better chance at escape. I peer through the leaves of the evergreen shrub hiding me and see Emilio grabbing and pulling his own hair as he shouts back in despair at Jim who has suddenly grabbed him by his lapels and hoisted hum into the air so his feet dangle just above the ground. He points down to beside the car where I had appeared and continues to shout. Jim is growing increasingly annoyed and I watch as he walks dangerously close to the edge and dangles Emilio from it. There is a heated exchange between the pair before Azarov appears at his shoulders and takes a swift look down in my direction. Has he seen me? I start to worry just in case but continue to watch up intently to see what happens next.

Jim releases Emilio and he falls straight down the cliff side. He won't live, I watch as his body bounces off every rough edge possible before he heaps on the ground below. Jim claps his hand together as a gesture of removing dirt and leaves the cliff edge satisfied with his handy work. They have a total disregard for life these men. I've seen many a death in my time and some I thought were horrific but these are all in cold blood and without good reason.

When I hear the engine rev up and the screech of tyres against the ice I hope they're gone. Convinced Peter and I are dead and that Emilio was lying. I let out a burst of relived laughs, thank god we're finally free but I'm snapped back to reality as there is another loud bang and the bonnet erupts in flame. Thick smoke pollutes the air as it begins to surround the car. Peter, I must save Peter!

I hurry out from behind the bush and fight my way through the smoke as I get to his door. The glass again is shattered from the impact it felt as we had rolled but I can't shatter it without hurting Peter. My only hope is to prise the door open. I try the handle and it won't give, the door is still locked. Fighting a losing battle I pull with all my strength as Peter coughs from inside. Smoke is filling the inside and it wakes him. He groggily rolls his head around as his eyes flicker open and closed.

"Peter, Peter!" I scream trying to attract his attention still pulling at the door and banging on it with my other fist.

He slowly turns his head and looks at me eyes all glazed. "Peter! Can you get out? Can you get out?" I cry my desperation apparent in my voice and the intensity of the moment getting the better of me. I watch as flames dance further up the bonnet towards the windscreen and feel the intensity of their heat.

Peter has reached beside him and is fiddling with his belt to get free. He gives a triumphant look as he has regained enough consciousness to assist me in helping him free of the death trap. He pushes up against the door but cannot force it open. "Peter, shield your eyes" I shout from outside. This is our only hope, break the window and hope he is in a fit enough state to climb out. He does as I ask and I clench my fist up again and forcefully aim it at the window. The sound of shattered glass is all I can hear and I stare at my hand that is now completely blood soaked.

Peter uncovers his eyes and looks bewildered by my latest action. I offer my hand to him to help him out through the crushed window frame and he takes it firmly as he gives me one of his to die for smiles. Placing his free hand on the frame he twists awkwardly from behind the wheel and catches himself on the controls. He's gritted his teeth so as not to scream in pain and falls out onto me as he kicks free of the car.

There is a series of loud crackles and pops from the heated engine and I thank god we both seem to have gotten out alive. A blast blows out all remaining glass and sets the whole car a blaze. Flames devouring its whole interior before more blasts as the whole thing explodes sending both Peter and I flying into nearby shrubbery and rocks. I hit a large icy rock with force as the impact of the blast pushes me into it. Peter follows as it too affects him. Seconds later I feel myself losing touch with my surroundings as all goes black and quiet.


	49. Chapter 49

I come round feeling very dizzy. Lifting myself from the rock I look round for Peter. He lies only a few yards from me against the icy ground. I slide off the rock struggling for breath and hit the ice chest first. Moving slowly I slide over to Peter getting as close as I can. I cough and splutter as I say his name and try to wake him. He's too quiet and so still, a small stream of blood trickling down from his hairline. Tears escape and flow rapidly down my cheeks and I push my cheek against the ice as I lay beside Peter and gently stroke the side of his face.

My silent tears have become giant sobs and an uncomfortable lump has appeared in my throat. Cold wind nips at the back of my throat drying it out and causing a tingling sensation. I stare hard at Peter, my eyes locked on him and watching him breathe gently. I can feel the effects the ice is having on my patches of bare skin pressed up against it. My whole right side has gone numb from the coldness and my body is shivering.

I must have drifted off to sleep or out of consciousness as I find myself awoken by the sound of violent coughs coming from Peter. I quickly pull myself up onto my knees and try to help Peter as he struggles to turn himself on to his back. Taking a firm grip of his arm I support him as he manages to sit up and inhales deeply. He looks at me as he catches his breath and stutters as he tries to say something to me.

"Are you…..Are you ok?" he eventually manages to spit out accompanied by a gorgeous smile.

I give a gentle nod and then ask him the same question in a hushed tone.

"I'm fine baby, you sure your alright?" he asks again looking for reassurance. I take a deep breath and tell him what he wants to hear, but in reality I'm not okay at all.

Peter looks up in the direction of the car. "That's a write off then!" he says jokingly and I give a giggle. We sit in silence for a few minutes before he clambers to his feet. He reaches out his hand to me and I follow suit in the most un ladylike way possible, my bare feet sliding on the part melted ice where I've been sat. I fall onto Peter almost knocking him back to the ground.

Once steady he lets go of me and scans the area before settling his gaze on Emilio's heaped body. Bravely he goes over to him and bends down flipping him over and his cold wide eyes stare up at him, his face barely visible from the blood and his body all-limp. Throwing back Emilio's Jacket, Peter pats him down and empties every single one of his pockets, evaluating his findings and then stuffing them into the pockets on his own jacket. I can't see any of what he's collected but he gives a grin as he confidently struts back to me.

He approaches me at such a speed I'm not sure he'll stop and he doesn't. Instead he grabs my wrist and pulls me along behind him. I wonder if he even knows where we a headed. The last thing we need is to be in the middle of nowhere and lost.

"Where are we going?" I ask him as he drags me deeper into the bare woodland. Focused he ignores me and continues to press on. "Peter!" I shout aggressively as I try to wriggle free of his ever increasing grip. Noticing my struggling he stops and turns to me twisting my wrist painfully in the process. His eyes have changed and are now filled with rage. I can only think its been my infantile winging as he's dragged me along with no explanation.

His breathing is deep and heavy and he's just waiting for me to whinge once more so he can let rip. His expression instantly softens as mine hardens and I shake free of his grasp. Looking at my wrist I notice the bright red marks he has caused. Tears prick my eyes as I gently place my thumb over the marks.

"I'm sorry Carla!" Peter blurts out and it sets me off the tears rolling slowly down my cheeks in single file and snagging on rough patches of my skin. He tries to come over and take me in his embrace put I hold my arms protectively across my chest and avoid his touch.

Facing each other we stand in our unfamiliar surroundings. I feel like I'm with a stranger. How could he go from smiles and reassuring loving gestures to raging? Was he angry with me?

"Where are we going Peter?" I spit angrily

"I don't know," he snaps back.

Out tempers when mixed together is a terrible combination. It will just result in an argument and we really don't need to be fighting right now, we need to work together, as a team if we ever want to get back home. However both of us are too stubborn and I know I should just go along with Peter but he is definitely not thinking straight. Wandering around in a never-ending wood will not get us anywhere.

"Come on" he orders as he turns away and continues making his way into the black forest before us. I stand cemented to the spot, arms still crossed in protest. I refuse to go any further into the unknown. A far better plan would be to walk parallel with the cliff edge until we found the road but do you think Peter will listen to me. I watch as he begins to disappear unaware that I'm not obediently following like Leanne would have. That's another thing he needs to remember I'm independent. I've got my confidence back since Frank and I can once again take care of myself! When he doesn't look back I turn and head off back in the direction from which he dragged me.

Reaching the forest edge I see the burnt out car, the smoke still thick and the horrible smell of burnt rubber and leather. Just beyond it I see Abel's now pale body, it's as white as the snow it lays in. I throw my hand up over my mouth as I hurry past the wreckage and corpse and head down the cliff side, hoping I will meet the road like I planned. As I begin to put considerable distance between us I keep glancing over my shoulder in the hope he has followed me but am disappointed every time when he is not there.

I must have been walking for miles and my feet are cold and sore. I clumsily keep catching my toes on mounds of ice and I can see the bruising and swelling developing. I haven't yet found the roadside but many a car has sped past above my head off into the mountains. Tears have developed again and are leaving my body by the bucket load. I can't help but think about Liam, he wouldn't have left me, and he would have noticed I wasn't following. What I wouldn't give to see him now, just to hear his voice, feel his touch, share his embrace and receive his tender loving kiss. Stopping myself I fall to the ground with a thud and stare out through my tear filled eyes longing to see Liam and then a figure appears. My heart beats fast and I stupidly try to believe it's him, come to rescue me from hell and take me away to heaven with him.

The figure appears to be jogging awkwardly and calling out my name, looking frantically all around and shouting louder and louder until we lock eyes. "Liam" I mouth breathlessly, hoping I'm not hallucinating and it really is him but as the man comes closer I see it's only Peter and a pang of disappointment hits me.

"Carla, what were you…" he begins but doesn't finish when he sees the state I'm in.

My hand and both feet are still painted in blood, bruising is appearing and coming out all over my body and I must genuinely look unwell.

"Oh sweetheart" he says sympathetically as he wipes the tears from my eyes with the side of his hands. Hurrying to remove his jacket he places it around my shoulders once again insistent that I need it.

"Come on darling, we should get moving" he presses but I don't want to go. I want to sit here and miss Liam.

He gets up making a stand and takes a few steps back in the direction from which he appeared then stops when he turns and sees me just sitting there. Huffing loudly he stomps back and crouches back down in front of me. Placing his arms firmly on mine he looks me square in the eye.

"Carla, What's wrong?" he asks firmly treating me like a child. I stay silent and know it's winding him up.

"Tell Me!" he threatens shaking me his patience hanging by a thread.

"Liam" I mumble as Peter gives me a confused look.

"What?" he asks shaking his head.

"I want Liam!" I scream scrambling to my feet and staggering off again alone.


	50. Chapter 50

Having struggled free of Peter's jacket I throw it down behind me. Fighting back the tears I press on along the cliff edge as it slowly begins to decrease in height. I know that I must be meeting the roadside shortly. I sniffle and once again feel the chill in the air. It's beginning to get dark and soon I won't be able to see. Stopping for a moment I try to think clearly and know I must either find somewhere to shelter or hope Peter hasn't given up on me and has followed me.

I do a three sixty looking all around, I'm just surrounded by a blanket of icy snow and woodland, no sign of life and ahead of me the cliff edge is rising again so there is no hope of getting up there and finding any help. Disappointment hits me hard and I break down, screaming and sobbing that then echo all around me. Letting go I fall to the ground and bury my face in my hands. Through my sobs I whisper for Liam. I need him now, to be that saviour who just takes me away from it all.

Ice crackles underfoot as I'm approached, the shadow hovering over me as the last of light disappears. I feel the soft touch of a hand on my shoulder and the palm run the length of my arm. Peeking through my fingers as I hear something thrown down onto the ice. Faded leather from Peter's jacket stares up at me. My sobbing instantly ceases as relief floods through me. He came after me. I under estimate Peter, I should love him as much as I do Liam, after all he's still here and he does keep coming back no matter how I've behaved.

Warm breath beats against my neck and I slowly raise my head and turn to look round. As I see him my eyes widen in alarm, not what I expected at all. Seeing my alarm he grips my arm tightly digging his callous fingertips in so much it hurts. I want to scream but opening my mouth I find no sound comes out. Rising to his feet he pulls me to mine. There is just no time to register what is happening, as it is all just too quick.

My feet slip and slide as he drags me beside him through the woodland. Branches underfoot dig into my bare soles and I catch myself of stray twigs and branches hanging from the deadwood trees. I want to cry but I won't show I'm upset. I decide making it as difficult as possible to move me might be a good idea. I try to hold back but his strength overpowers me. I can tell its annoying him though, it would just be a lot simpler if I co-operated. He begins to huff and puff as I struggle at his side trying his patience.

Stopping suddenly he grips my other arm and slams me against a tree. Short, sharp breaths escape him and I'm pinned down feeling each one upon my face. Instantly I'm transported back to 19th September, my apartment and its Frank I see before me. It's his heavy breathing I can feel and I'm powerless against him. I can't hold them back any longer and the tears flood from my eyes. What I need now, more than anything is my knight in faded leather to rescue me before I end up reliving this horrible memory.

I'm released from his grip and my legs have become jelly. I just slip down the length of the trunk before thudding down on the ground. He stares down at me, aware of the pain he must have caused me but there is no compassion in his eyes. He crouches down in front and silly me, I think he's going to ask what's wrong but he doesn't. He slides his hands under my arms as if he's going to give me a hug but lifts me literally throwing me over his shoulder.

Grumbling under his breath he continues through the forestry. I kick against him, trying to scream but they are still muted. I look up and watch as we descend deeper and deeper into the trees. Peter's jacket is a dark pinprick of a dot lying in the snow. I focus on it and will Peter to just come along pick it up and realise where I am.

I have kicked the whole way here but we have finally stopped. He sets me down in front of him and takes a good look at me. He cocks his head as he smiles and brushes stray hairs from my face gently tucking it behind my ears. Furrowing my brow I stare back, he resembles Liam in so many ways but looks nothing like him. It's those shiny blue eyes. They are the spitting image of Liam's and radiate sudden warmth. We are so close to each other that we can feel one another's breath and I feel a spark.

I know he felt it too and my heart beats so fast it hurts. I try to shake the thought but it was so strong and unexpected. He places both hands on my shoulders, maybe this is what I need to be rescued after all I did always fall for the bad boy. Through the scars and tough man exterior I have to admit he is quite handsome. Reaching up I place my palms flat against his chest and tiptoe to meet his lips. His hands move to cup my cheeks and he pushes into the kiss. It's so passionate considering we are strangers. My left hand moves up and rests against his neck as he slides a palm down my arm and round to the small of my back.

We pull away from one another, breathless. He looks down at me just as shocked as me by our sudden attraction. Neither of us say a word but he pulls me close and envelopes me in his muscular arms giving me a much need cuddle. I listen through his chest to his erratic heartbeat as it beats out of time with mine and smile. Turing my head and lifting it from his chest I look up and he bends down so our lips lock once more.

'_CRACK'_

"Car….Carla?" speaks a low voice from behind.


	51. Chapter 51

Upon hearing Peter's voice I pull away from him and he doesn't stop me. His voice sounded so shaky and broken as he spoke my name but I haven't said a word.

"What's…." he stutters but I don't need him to finish that sentence, I know exactly what he's thinking because I'm thinking it too. Tears have formed in his eyes and mine mirror his. This is really going to put a wedge between us but I don't want it to. I love Peter. Yes I love Peter I reassure myself.

Peter takes a step closer to us and places a hand on my arm, but I'm pulled close into his side as if now his property. It was only one kiss but maybe he read more into it. I try to think of the best way I can explain this to Peter without a fight but I don't think _'I don't know how it happened' _is going to cut it.

I shake free of his possessive grip and reach for Peter's hand but he snatches it away and places it to his mouth. He stares at me his eyes bulging, temples pulsing and a rage building. He seriously looks like he could kill, that same look he had when he had come face to face with Frank each time after he'd attacked me. I take a deep breath; I have to say something so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"I don't know how it happened"

Damn, I didn't want to say that and I can tell he's not impressed. His brown eyes burn into me and he's hurt this is me cheating on him, the man who was there for me through the drink, the rape and all the aftermath. He had supported me, saved my life on occasions and left his perfect little home set up for me. The worst of it is that he has given up his son, his only constant in life for me and look what I've done to him. I've walked out on some of the difficult situations; I continued to drink around him. I could of at least stuck by his side and offered one hundred percent of my support on this _'adventure' _

Less than impressed with my answer Peter flips. "Why him?" he yells. Peter has never been this mad at me before, he's been angry and said hurtful things but this has cut through him like a knife. I begin to cry, tears falling down my cheeks so hard and fast they have turned into two continuous streams. I want to take it all back and I wish he had never seen it, if the ground would just open up whole and swallow me it would be doing me a favour.

"I don't know, it just happened! Peter, I'm sorry," I say hoping he will soften and forgive me but his expression stays hard.

"Why him?" he yells at me again.

"I'm sorry Peter, I don't know," I repeat pointlessly.

"Carla do you now who he is! What he has stood by and let some of these, these animals do to you?" his voice full of anger and frustration as he gestures towards him. I realise he's keeping very quiet and out of it and just letting Peter and I have our domestic. He's getting off lightly I would have expected Peter to go for him by now.

"I know, I know, honestly it just happened Peter. It didn't mean anything" but I know that last bit is a lie. It meant something I know it did we both felt it and Peter probably felt it too. He stands silent before me and I pray he'll say something, anything will do. The silence is then broken by him chipping in his two penneth worth although neither of us asked for it. "Meant something to me" he booms loud enough that it echoes and bounces of every surrounding surface.

You can literally see Peter's blood boiling. That was not helpful, I know both he and I know it meant something but did he really have to tell Peter. A lump has formed in the back of my throat and the tears are still flowing. Since his confession to Peter we have once again been left in silence. I reach out for Peter again, genuinely sorry that I have hurt him and caused him further pain but he pulls away.

"Peter please" I cry, desperate for his touch and forgiveness.

Peter shakes his head and turns to leave, but stops and turns back. An arm has now been firmly placed around my waist, taking what it wants to claim as his but it's not his and that should be Peter's arm. In disbelief he shakes his head at us both as he examines us closely.

"You know what Carla? I've had enough of your moods and everything else" he pauses for a breath and then continues. "If you want him, if it meant something then you have him, go on go off with Jim!" he yells his voice full of disgust and he gives a snarl to Jim before walking away.

"Wait" I call out but he doesn't come back. Forcefully I grab Jim's hand and remove it. I run after Peter calling out his name and I know he's quickening his pace to avoid me. Running out of breath and energy I stop and rest my hands on my knees. "Come back" I whisper knowing that he hasn't heard. I can barely see through my teary eyes as he disappears beyond the trees. That's it he's gone, I don't think he'll ever forgive me. This is Liam's fault, he shouldn't have had such irresistible eyes and Jim's shouldn't have been the same.

Desperate to be comforted I turn back to Jim, my bottom lip trembling and he reads the signs perfectly. Just like Liam would have. He hurries over to me and holds me in a tight embrace, stroking my hair and rocking me gently.

"Hey, hey come on it's okay" he comforts as I'm consumed by emotion, heaving into his chest. I know Jim is holding me and its welcomed but I want Peter back. I do, I really do.

"Come on lets get you out of here" says Jim obviously aware that I'm shivering and cold in the now nippy night air.

I sniff and give a small but unsure nod. No idea where I'm going to end up now either or for that matter where Jim came from or how he got back here. I must ask him but not now.

"What about Peter?" I ask, my voice full of concern.

"We'll find him" Jim reassures.

Placing an arm around my shoulders he guides me through another small patch of forestry to a roadside. Parked up on the verge is a big black four by four. Great! Now I owe Peter another apology, he was right to be heading through the forestry and if I had just done as I was told and supported him all this with Jim probably would never have happened.

Jim helps me up into the passenger side and then hurries round to the driver's side as I put on my seat belt. You know just in case. He starts the engine, which despite the cold turns over instantly. Reaching over he places a hand over mine. "We'll find him," he says but I know he's only doing this to keep me from jumping out of the car and trying to run off. Maybe it's all just an act, to get me back to Azarov alone. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought but try to block it. No it can't be, I made the first move, and I leant in for the kiss.

The car speeds away seconds later and as we pull out into the empty road we both watch through the trees for any sign of Peter. Jim winds down his window and calls out his name, at that very moment something darts through the trees but is it Peter? Squinting Jim looks out to the side; I keep watch of the road after all we don't want another accident.

"See anything?" I ask and take my eyes away from the road for just a second.

"Yeah, I thought I did but…"

He stops mid sentence as we both hear a thud. Did we hit something?


	52. Chapter 52

Jim stops the car and cuts the engine but leaving the headlights on lighting up the road ahead. In a flash he is out of the car and hurries round to the front. I scramble at my seat belt struggling to release and remove it to join Jim. As I open the door the wind catches it with force almost ripping my arm from its socket. I twist round in my seat and slide out of the car onto the ice below. Steadying myself I use the body of the car to aid me to the front where Jim stands.

The headlight radiates heat as I reach it and stand before it casting my shadow on the road surface. Jim is frantically looking around. There is nothing on the road. He notices me stood at his side and shrugs his shoulders before sweeping down to look under the car.

"Anything?" I ask my voice choked.

He shakes his head and skims the surroundings again. He lets out a long deep breath and looks at me. "Nope, I'm just going to search nearby" he says taking a few steps forward but is stopped when I reach for his arm.

He turns back to me my eyes all wide and teary and I squeeze his arm. I'm so worried that we have hit Peter and he's run off hurt like a deer would do. His eyes smile at me and he comes over to me. He pulls me close into him and hugs me tightly stroking my hair. "Please find him," I sob quietly into his chest.

"Hey, don't you worry sweetheart I'll find him. I have to or he'll freeze to death out here all night"

My sobs turn to heavy heaving cries, as I think of Peter alone in those woods, thinking I don't love him. I really hope he's ok and not too far. Jim tightens his grip on me squeezing me against him before letting go. I blink up at him through my soaked eyelashes, my eyes like pools of water. "Get in the car" he tells me harshly as he turns to walk away into the forestry but stops again when he feels me squeezing his hand. I already feel so lonely I don't want to be left alone in the car.

Why do I keep pressing on at him? I don't love him I love Peter! I'm so confused. I know I felt something with Jim, that same spark I have felt before, at the beginning with Liam and the same with Peter. He places his arms around me once more and holds me as tightly. "Car now!" he orders as I feel a sudden chill and shudder violently but I don't want to take his orders, I want to feel needed, to feel loved.

I reach up and grab the sides of his thick leather jacket and tiptoe up to meet his lips. I press into his lips and he responds letting his hand wander to the small of my back. This is what I need a rush of excitement and to feel loved. I'm struggling to remember the last time Peter and I had felt like this about each other. It had all gone down hill since Simon left with Leanne. Jim pushes against me his groin digging in and hitting all the right spots. I give a small groan of pleasure and push myself up against him to let him know that if he wants this so do I.

That spark is there again and I feel a tingle throughout my body. He pushes me back against the bonnet and it's still warm as he pushes me up onto it. He pushes my knees apart to get close to me and I feel big, school girl grin paint my face. We've paused just for a minute both of us breathing rapidly. I can't keep away any longer I pull his face to mine and kiss him hard. Jim's hands explore my body flitting all over before settling again at the small of my back.

Passion erupts between us and he slams me down my head hitting the bonnet. That's got to leave a dent! His fingers tangle in my hair as he pushes down on top of me, his moist lips moving from my lips down my chin and onto my neck. I revel in the pleasure I'm experiencing. His hands brush my shoulders as his lips move to the top of my breasts. I close my eyes completely lost in the moment, still feeling his hands as they move over my breasts down my stomach and settle on my hips for just a second before he begins to hitch my dress up.

I suddenly go tense, my eyes still closed but the fantasy is long gone. This is now me reliving a nightmare; to familiar. It's Frank all over again. I lead Jim on and am now scared not knowing how he'll react. He doesn't know my past he won't be supportive not like Peter. Oh my god Peter! I just got so lost in the moment I forgot all about him. I hear Jim unbuckle his belt as he trails kisses back up my neck till his lips meet mine. They tremble at his touch but he sucks and nips at my bottom lip as his hands make there way south under my tattered dress.

Squeezing my eyes shut as tight as I can I feel the tears forming beneath my eyelids. When he comes back to kiss my lips I swiftly move my head and he meets my cheek. "Carla" he says but I only hear Frank's voice. I panic, turning my head back up and opening my eyes and the tears start to stream. "Please" I whimper but he stays silent keeping me pinned down securely to the bonnet. I just see Frank, Jim is long gone and it's Frank before me. He looks exactly the same as he did that night when he…. when he raped me. I gag at the thought of what happened and try to push Jim off but he only relieves me of the weight from his chest.

My voice is choked as I continue to whimper but nothing comprehensible for Jim to know why I've had a sudden change of heart. He grips either side of my head and looks down at me. No good I still only see Frank.

"Please not again" I cry as he places a firm kiss on my lips. His hands still move about my body and he continues to kiss me my sobbing not distracting him for a moment. I lay beneath him shaking feeling scared and alone as he penetrates me. Letting out a desperate scared scream to try and inform him I don't want this but he ignores it and then hear a more familiar voice.

"What the…."

Jim's movements stop instantly as a hand claps down on his shoulder against his leather jacket. He pulls out from me and I lay exposed before them both. "Peter" I blurt out breathlessly. He looks disappointed as his eyes burn into me. Jim fiddles with his belt and re-adjusts himself and then offers out a hand to help my up.

"So?" asks Peter staring directly at me for answers but I'm speechless. I can hardly tell him I encouraged Jim and then couldn't go through with it. He'd never believe me. Instead I slide of the bonnet and go to hold his hand but make the mistake of smiling shyly at Jim. As my finger tips meet his he pulls away throwing his hands up in surrender.

"Get lost Carla" he yells nastily before turning his back on me and walking away yet again.

I stand idly at Jim's side as I watch him disappear down the road for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. Jim places an arm round my shoulder. "Get in the car, we'll catch him up" he says heading back to the drivers seat. Once both in we speed off in the same direction.


	53. Chapter 53

We don't have to drive for long until Peter becomes clear just up ahead. Jim keeps his speed steady as we approach and a light snow flurry begins. Peter is staggering along the roadside trampling the snow and trying not to slip on any icy patches. The road has been quiet all night but out of nowhere an SUV races around us, it's bright xenon lights illuminating the road and surroundings ahead. We're thrown forward in our seats as it nips in quickly in front of us causing Jim to slam on his breaks so as not to hit them.

The car sweeps in by Peter slowing down to a roll but not stopping. The door flies open and a hand reaches for him, pulling him towards the car. Brake lights glow red as it eventually stops for half a second to pull Peter in and slam the door shut. Jim speeds up a little and I hope they don't suddenly drive off at speed. Their car has started rolling again and its gradually getting a good distance a head of us.

Flooring it Jim tries again to get closer but they must know we're on their tail, because the suddenly fly forward. I'm shaking violently against my leather chair, my heart pounding as all sorts of thoughts pop in and out of my head regarding Peter. "Damn" shouts Jim suddenly pounding the steering wheel with a fist.

"What?" I ask all choked up with worry.

He presses down on the accelerator as we attempt to gain on them. "Azarov!" he says through gritted teeth. I can see the anger brewing but I thought he was on their side unless…

Jim interrupts my train of thought, glancing quickly at me and then focusing back on the car in front. "He fired me you know, all that work I did, all that pain I caused and he just fires me" His grip tightens on the wheel enough to turn his knuckles white. "Threatened to kill me he did, so I got in the car and drove off, he must have been tracking me" he says his tone angry. I sit silently back in my chair and try to take in the information Jim has volunteered. If Azarov fired him why did he come looking for me?

"Why did you come looking for me then?" I ask innocently hoping he won't blow a fuse. He takes his eyes from the road and fixes them on me. Panic sets in for just a minute and I glance out of the front window. I look back at him and he's focused back on the road. His jaw drops as he goes to speak but he doesn't have a chance before he is slamming on the brakes. I look forward to see what the urgency is only to see the car up ahead skid to a stop, the door fly open and Peter be thrown from is as it pulls away again.

"Peter!" I cry out as my fingers move to release me from my belt. Freeing myself I reach for the door handle and unclick it. "Carla" he warns but before Jim has time to stop the car I jump from it and end up falling by the side of the road. I push myself up and clamber to my feet as the brakes on the four by four screech with Jim trying to stop it.

I make my way over to Peter slumped at the road side and as I reach him I throw myself down at his side and roll him onto his back.

Peter groans as I do so and I gasp as I gaze down at him. His face is bloody and bruised all over and he can barely open up his eyes. "I'm sorry Peter, so sorry" I whisper as I sweep my palm down the side of his face. He gives another deep groan and tries to roll back on his front. A hand appears on my shoulder and I break down, the sight of Peter hurt overwhelming me. Jim has come over to us; he shuffles around to Peter and goes to lift him.

"Get off me" Peter snaps but he cannot fight Jim as he continues to lift him. "Get off me" Peter yells then screams in pain as he's held in Jim's arms.

"Let him help you Peter, please" I cry wiping the tears from my eyes and sniffing to stop my nose running unattractively.

Jim carries him back to the car and then calls me over to help with the door so he can slide Peter onto the back seat. He gestures for me to climb in beside Peter, he wants me still but he knows I want Peter. I give him a shy smile to say thank you. Our eyes linger on each other seconds longer than necessary and I have a feeling this is not the end of things between Jim and me.

As Jim jumps in the drivers seat I take Peter's hand but he is again quick to snatch it away. It's all so upsetting; I don't think he'll ever forgive me for Jim. How could I be so stupid to hurt him like that?

"Peter I'm sorry, please don't hate me" I beg too aware Jim is listening to every word. Deep down I know what I'm saying is empty and meaningless but I hope Peter doesn't. I'm sure he can forgive me this after all I've forgiven him for so much since we announced our affair to the world. Well the street at least.

He ignores me and turns away. I glance at Jim in the rear view mirror and he gives a sympathetic smile as the tears begin to flow down my cheeks. Maybe Peter just needs time, yes that's for the best. In the past I've just left him to cool off and he's come back to me I just hope it will still be the same this time.

I push back against the cold leather seat and press my head against the freezing glass of the window. My eyes open and close as I watch the nothingness outside go by. I have no idea where Jim is taking us this time but I feel re-assured knowing he isn't working for Azarov anymore.

Suddenly I open my eyes to find we are in a well-lit road, shops to one side and small shanty like housing to the other. We must have reached a small town. Looking to my right I see Peter sat awkwardly across the back seat, his eyes closed and he looks peaceful and free of pain despite his chest heaving and a wheezing as he breathes. The car is rolling slowly and I look up and catch Jim staring into the back via the rear view mirror.

"Where are we…"

"Hospital" he replies not letting me finish. "Get you two both checked over and then I want to get you on a flight home, away from all this" he offers as extra information.

I let out a small sigh. It'd be so nice to get back home, to my factory, Michelle and even little Simon.

Bright lights from the hospital glisten before us as Jim pulls into a parking bay. Peter stirs as the engine stops and cries out in pain when he goes to stretch. Jim is quick to jump out and open the door so I can get out and he can reach in to carry Peter to the emergency department. As we enter a nurse comes rushing over with a wheelchair as she sees Jim struggling to carry an agitated Peter in his arms like a child. One look at Peter and she orders us to check him in, her Russian accent strong and whisks Peter off out of sight. The receptionist hands Jim a clipboard filled with paperwork to fill in and then gestures for us to take a seat amongst a scattering of waiting patients.


	54. Chapter 54

We take a seat in the corner and I stare blankly at the paperwork. All the titles are in Russian, I pass it to Jim with tears in my eyes. "I can't read it," I cry pathetically as I throw my head into my hands. Jim puts an arm around me squeezing my shoulders in a comforting gesture.

"I've done loads of these in my time, come on I'll ask and you tell," he says. I can't believe he can read Russian but I suppose he must get all over the place in his line of work. I give a sniff and a nod as I lift my head and look at him. He's smiling gently and reaches out a thumb to wipe away the odd tears still hanging around on my cheeks.

"There we go. Right Full name?"

Together we manage to fill in most of the application and I feel a wash of relief. Jim rests a hand on my thigh, gives it a squeeze and then hoists himself to his feet to take the form back to the receptionist. I glance around the room, patients with all sorts of injuries everything from broken bones, nosebleeds and even vomiting. I catch a glimpse of Jim heading back over to me and give a shy smile.

As he approaches me he holds out his hand. "Come on" he says. I take his hand and follow him as we are buzzed through a set of doors. A nurse greets us and Jim mumbles something to her in what I can only presume is Russian. She smiles brightly with her harlot red lips and looks so sweet with her blonde hair braided either side of her head. She gestures with her finger for us to follow and Jim takes my hand as we proceed.

From behind grubby curtains I hear coughing, wheezing and all sorts of beeping and pumping noises. "Are we seeing Peter?" I mumble shyly at Jim's side, my eyes darting for any sign of him in one of the beds. We enter a new corridor all little rooms with patients names chalked outside. We hurry past the majority of them before flying past one which has _'BARLOW' _written boldly but we don't stop.

Confused I drag my heels beside Jim and he stops to look me in the eye. The nurse oblivious to the fact we have stopped waddles onto another ward, sectioned by the curtains. She stops and twirls around, looking momentarily confused before noticing us stood just left of Peter's room. Coughing loudly she grabs Jim's attention and he takes a firm grip of my arm.

"What about Peter?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"Carla, you need to be checked over too, just to make sure you're ok," he tells me in a stern voice.

"Then can I see Peter?" I ask innocently and he gives a nod.

Tears prick my eyes as I approach the nurse. Holding out the curtain she ushers both Jim and me into the small cubicle. Muttering in Russian she address' Jim and then leaves. I look at him suddenly feeling scared of him; I don't know what's come over me. I've been alone with him before and not given it a thought but his stance and expression have suddenly changed.

"What did she….urm what did she say?" I stutter.

He doesn't reply only nods in the direction of the bed. I sit on the edge and go to lift my legs up onto it but he swoops down to aid me. I give a weak smile and push my head back against the pillows. It's a lovely feeling, one I've missed in fact. I must have gone at least 3 or four nights now without one. An empty chair sits vacant at the bedside but Jim perches beside me.

The nurse re enters with her painted on smile and gives Jim a wink. She smiles down at me and checks my vitals. She has nothing to say and stays mute throughout the whole process and gives a satisfied squeak.

"She ok, you can go," she says in a robot tone, her Russian accent strong.

"Peter?" I mouth to Jim hoping he will ask her if we can see him. Taking her arm as she goes to leave he asks her a question and she gives a positive nod before disappearing through the curtain. I shrug my shoulders at Jim as if to say _well? _He's got another smile for me and then tells me to come along.

Following him from the cubicle we head back to Peter's room. The small slit of a window in the door allows me to see Peter hooked to a monitor, a mask over his nose and mouth and all sorts of fluids and some bloods being pumped into his system. My poor Peter. The sight of him chokes me up, a lump forms in my throat and I throw my hand over my mouth and try to hold back the sobs. Placing my hand on the handle I push down and enter the room. It's too overwhelming and a few stray tears manage to break through. Jim stands back as I approach Peter and lift his hand. It feels so cold to the touch. I flash a glance back at Jim as I let Peter's hand slip free and land back onto the bed.

He rushes over to me and takes me in his muscular arms and holds me tight. "Jim" I cry into his chest, soaking his t-shirt with my tears. He soothes me, hushing me and lightly rubbing my back. Suddenly I pull away and go back to Peter's side feeling slightly better after being comforted by Jim. I sniffle at his side as I squeeze his hand and watch his chest gently rise and fall. Silence descends on the room so that all can be heard are the intermittent bleeps from the monitor.

I watch the hands slowly move around the clock hanging on the far wall. Two hours have passed and Jim and I haven't said a word but all of a sudden he is stood behind me and breathing gently on my neck. Releasing Peter's hand again I twist awkwardly between the bed and his body to face him. He sweeps down to kiss me but I dodge it just in time.

"What's wrong?" he asks a quizzical look gracing his features.

"I can't," I stammer.

He takes a firm grip on the tops of my arms and attempts to lock his gaze with mine. After avoiding it for as long as I can it finally works.

"Can't what?" he asks firmly.

"This" I reply shaking him off and hurrying to the other side of the bed. Unsuccessful he manages to back me into the shadowed corner. Pinning me in place by pushing his groin into me and taking my hands and pushing them flat against the wall above my head with his.

"This" he whispers as he pushes his lips against mine and starts to invade my mouth with his tongue. I feel terribly uncomfortable but that spark is back, that passion we have and I find myself becoming lost in the moment.


	55. Chapter 55

He pulls away and holds me at arms length. I'm panting heavily and leaning back against the wall for extra support. Giving a salacious grin he hangs over me like a big black rain cloud but it won't dampen my spirits. That kiss was just enough to drag me from reality. Swooping down he places a fresh kiss upon my slightly swollen lips and his hand fumbles for mine hanging idly by my side. Finding it he interweaves his fingers with mine and pushes his tongue back past my lips and I give a deep groan as the sensation spreads throughout my body.

I welcome him as he pushes against me, pinning me tighter than before between his body and the slightly grubby, yellowing hospital wall. His stray hand finds its way into my tangled hair and locks a tight grip on it at the back and pulls gently forcing my head up and lips further into his.

We are interrupted by a loud cough. I pull away from Jim, his saliva covering my lips like I've over done the gloss and peer over his shoulder. He turns his head to see the doctor standing half in half out the door. He gives another cough to excuse himself and clear his throat. "We need to take Mr Barlow for operation" he advises as he enters the room quietly shutting the door behind him.

Jim steps back from me and in a gentlemanly manner and stands to one side so I can address the doctor. "Operation?" I ask confused my voice wavering. The doctor gives a nod and goes to Peter checking him over and taking a good look at his records. I look to Jim for an offering of any information that nurse had given but he stands silent staring at his feet.

"What operation?" I ask the doctor really trying to keep my cool.

"Damage inside to fix" says the doctor giving me an apologetic shrug.

Tears stream from my eyes at the thought. The doctor hasn't said what the damage is. Is it serious? "Damage?" I choke out through my tears. The doctor just gives me a shrug. "I sorry, not good with the English" he says.

"Jim!" I call over to him looking for some assistance. Maybe he can talk to the doctor and get me some answers. He looks up instantly as he hears my voice. "Can you…please?" I ask desperate for his help, my eyes wide and teary as I feel all sorts of emotion brewing deep inside.

Walking over he scoots around me and lightly touches my shoulder as he does. He reaches the doctor and in hushed tones speaks to him. The Doctor gives an enthusiastic nod and then when he speaks the words race from his tongue and Jim gives a few polite nods. Holding a stethoscope to Peter's chest the doctor listens to his heart and then gives me a smile as he notices me watching.

From the end of the bed I watch him unclip all Peter's drips and incoming fluids, then he removes his oxygen mask and this makes Peter cough and his eyelids twitch. Jim has now appeared behind me, both of his hands placed strategically on my shoulders. I've tensed and wait impatiently to see Peter wake up. Leaning down Jim whispers in my ear.

"He'll take a few minutes to come round, he'll be a little drowsy and confused. The Doctor explained his operation is where he had an internal bleed, they thought it had stopped but it has started again. He'll be in here for a few days but he is lucky not to have any worse injuries" he says in a silky, seductive low voice.

Peter opens his eyes just in time to catch Jim's lips leaving my cheek where he has just placed a light kiss. He blinks across at us and I notice Jim's hands have found there way down my body and are now clasped in front of me holding me tight.

"Carla" he chokes as I stare at him swallowing hard to keep the tears down. I brush Jim's hands away and hurry to his side clasping his hand with both of mine and squeezing it affectionately. I reach across him and place a light kiss on his lips. I feel guilty kissing him knowing that only minutes ago I was oblivious to his presence, lost in Jim's. He stares at me his eyes glazed and unwelcoming but the doctor commands his attention and tries to explain but his English fails him and Jim has to step in and explain to Peter where he is about to be taken.

The Doctor gives Jim a thankful nod as he leaves the room as Peter stares Jim down coldly. I look at him and he mouths something inaudible. I lean in closer across him and he whispers into my ear. "What the hell Carla? He doesn't care about you, trust me this is some sick game" I pull my head back up and stare at him alarmed by his revelation. No it can't be Jim assures me he was fired. Peter coughs as the sentence has taken what little breaths he had managed to regulate.

"Come Mr Barlow" says the doctor as he enters with a team of nurses to move him. They gently pull me away from his side and I find Jim placing his arms back around my middle and pulling me back close to him. We stand quietly and watch as they lay Peter back and secure the sides of his trolley to take him away. As he disappears through the door the last thing I see is him mouthing _'I LOVE YOU' _and giving me that look to say believe me Carla you are not safe. But he must be mistaken Jim is taking good care of me.

The perky nurse from earlier is back, she comes straight to Jim and whispers something to him in Russian. I give a small snarl hoping none of them see. She makes me jealous, just the way she behaves with him its not professional. "One minute" he says touching my arm gently as he exits the room following that woman.

He's not gone long and is back before I know it. "She advised we can wait in a waiting room down the hall but Peter won't be able to have visitors till the morning," he advises. Before I can say anything he has opened his mouth and continued. "But, I think we should leave, get you a good nights sleep. There's a tiny motel around the corner and we could get you cleaned up, fresh clothes and a shower."

I put my hand up to silence him. I don't care what he thinks is best I can't leave Peter, what if something happens? "No, I want to stay" I protest.

"Sweetheart I know you think you need to stay but you can't do anything or see him till the morning and well you want to look your best don't you" he says.

I huff but I suppose he is right and who wants to spend a night in a grotty Russian waiting room, I can't think of anything nicer right now than a bath.

He takes my hand as we leave the hospital and head out to the car park. The car bleeps open as he presses the remote sensor. Jim opens the passenger door for me to climb in. The leather seat is freezing against my patches of bare skin and I can't wait for Jim to get the car running and warm it up a little. A thin layer of ice has formed on the windscreen and as the wipers start they break it up and brush it away piece by piece. Once our windows are clear and the car has slight warmth to it Jim locks the doors and pulls away.

Halfway down the main road out of the little town the streetlights have become few and far in-between. In the distance I can see a small neon sign flashing and take a deep relaxing breath and dream of the lovely warm bath water lapping away at my skin as I enjoy a soak. As we grow closer Jim's speed decreases but as we arrive at the turning he pushes down hard on the accelerator and speeds off.


	56. Chapter 56

Jim starts to grin as his speed continues to increase. I feel his eyes on me and in my peripheral vision see his eyes dart from the road to me back to the road and then settle momentarily on me. I sit cowering in my chair, a tear has escaped from my eyes and I have a bad feeling about all this now. "What's up with you?" he asks. I shake my head not wanting to sound stupid by asking him where we are actually going.

I sit in silence and watch the sun slowly rise before us illuminating all the snowy surroundings and making them glisten as they lightly defrost. It's not long before I see in the distance towering buildings and a city like landscape. "Voronezh" Jim says.

"What?" I say but assuming it must be where we're headed. It's been quite a while since the motel and I'm sure we could have found a clothes shop on our way out of the town where we left Peter.

"The City. Thought we'd stay here and better shops for you to pick something from. Only the best for you sweetheart" says Jim reaching across and clasping my hand.

Pulling up into a space outside what looks like a shopping centre Jim switches off the engine and fumbles in his pocket eventually producing his wallet. He pulls from it a shiny gold plastic card and gives me a big smile. "Right, shall we go then, spend some cash" I give a smile, the thought of clean clothes and a good shopping spree is one I welcome. This is a perfect opportunity to buy something nice so I look spectacular when we return back to Peter's side later today.

It's absolutely spectacular inside, floor to ceiling designer shops, not even a sniff of any of the shops in the Trafford centre back home. I have to stop for just a minute and catch my breath. I don't think I can buy any of this I would be happy with a t-shirt and jeans right now so why on earth has he bought me here?

"I can't," I stammer as he hands me a slinky black dress off a rail in a shop whose name I can't even say. I turn over the tag and my eyes widen in shock 50,455. I hand it back to him and when he won't take it I push it firmly against his chest. I can't buy these things, I have no money and I refuse to spend his when I know Peter still owes money but a little confused now as to whom he actually owes this.

Feeling overwhelmed I run from the shop out into the early morning crowds of shoppers buzzing about in the centre. General chit chatting and laughing fill the area and echo around. As I look around the whole place spins, passers by just becoming quick flashes of colour. I sink to the floor, panting heavily for breath and trying to collect my thoughts. Jim's right I just need a good sleep and some rest. A few passers by stop but are quick to move away from me when they see the state of me. I wonder what they are thinking, with my tattered rag dress, dirty skin and tangled hair I must look homeless.

Arms reach around me and lift me to my feet. A face in front of me a blur but I know it's Jim as he speaks, his tone rather aggressive and he sweeps me up in his arms and carry's me out and away from the busyness. He sets me down on a bench outside and pulls out his wallet again. Taking a note he throws me a serious _'stay here' _look and gets up heading over to a small café located to the left.

The wind blows harshly, a cold edge to it even though the sun is high in the morning sky. "Here" Jims says as he passes me a perforated cup of coffee. "Strong and black" he smiles but how did he know? Its beginning to scare me how much Jim seems to know about me. I look around at our surroundings, anything to avoid eye contact with Jim. I sip at my coffee grateful for it's warmth and think about Peter lying in that hospital and praying once again to that god I don't believe in that he'll be ok.

Many passers by stop and grab a coffee either on their way too work or back home after a nightshift. "It's a nice area this" says Jim "Not like where I grew up, rough place. Glad I left as soon as I turned sixteen." He continues and ends with a sigh only to be met by my silence as I stare out blankly at the cars coming and going.

"Bet you grew up somewhere nice, posh bird like you" he says but it doesn't quite register with me the way he'd hoped. He gives another heavy sigh and I notice he is on his feet, stood before me.

"Carla!" he says in a shout dragging me back to the present.

As I stare up at him he breathes onto his hands and rubs them together. "Ready to go?" he asks as he prises my half drunk, cold coffee from my tight grip and chucks it in a nearby bin. I wobble as I get to my feet and find my balance just having enough strength to follow him back to the car. It is not until I'm sat against my cold leather seat that I notice him place a handful of shopping bags into the back seat before climbing in and starting the engine. As he reverses from the parking bay he is met by the harsh and long sound of a horn from an angry motorist whose path he has crossed. Winding down the window he sticks out his arm and waves by way of apology and then follows the sign for the exit.

As we turn out and hit a short stretch of highway I notice the little clock on the dashboard displaying the time as 10:00am. "Can we go back to Peter now?" I ask boldly.

Jim gives a little chuckle and looks at me for just a moment. "I don't think that's a good idea, let me take you to get rested and then we can go this afternoon and I promise I will call the hospital and see how he is doing the second we get to the hotel. That ok sweetheart?" he advises. He hasn't left me much choice and I really am exhausted, I give a nod and wait patiently hoping the hotel is not too far.

Half an hour later we arrive at the entrance to a small but expensive looking building I assume is the hotel. It has a long driveway and a valet waiting at the door but no obvious signs of a name. Jim pulls in at the front door and stops the car. Opening the back door he pulls out the bags and then walks round to get my door. Throwing his keys at the valet he orders him to park her up. "Jim" he address' him and gives a nod as he closes the passenger door and makes his way round to the drivers.

The car is slow to roll away and Jim gives another heavy sigh and places his hand on the door handle. Pushing it open he gestures "After you" and I take a step inside. The foyer is large and bright white. A large set of doors to the left and right and a wide elegant staircase in the centre but no reception desk. I turn to face Jim and ask, "What kind of hotel is this?" genuinely confused by it all.

"This is no hotel! This is my home" I hear a deep voice echo around the expanse from behind. I turn slowly only to find a familiar face painted with a devilish grin.


	57. Chapter 57

Azarov saunters down the stairs and then slowly makes his way over to me. I think fast and turn to grab the door but find my self stopped by the brick wall that is Jim. I'm all upset, sniffing and wiping away tears when he takes a grip of my arm and twirls me around so our eyes meet. Jim set me up! He knew exactly what he was doing. I should have listened to Peter, I never should have trusted him.

"Aren't you pleased to see me Ms Connor?" he asks with a chuckle. Jim moves in and takes a firm grip on me from behind so that I can't attempt another run. Eyes wide and full of unformed tears as I fight against Jim. Azarov runs the tips of his fingers down the side of my face, lightly brushing my cheek as they fall away. He chuckles to himself and then I watch as he crosses the lobby and disappears through a set of doors.

He emerges seconds later with a glass of whiskey or maybe rum in hand. Tapping from his shoes echo from the marble floor as he returns to us. Gently he swirls the glass stirring the contents before placing it to his lips and taking a sip. An appreciative groan leaves him as he swallows the liquor and lowers the glass. He smiles at me a big tooth bearing grin. Holding the glass up to me he gestures it forward inviting me to take a sip but I shake my head in refusal. I soon find out I don't have a choice; it's not an offer it is a request.

Azarov places the glass against my lips and pushes it upwards until I feel contact with the liquid. I can't resist and part my lips taking every drop that Azarov pours into my mouth. When he pulls the glass away I notice it is empty and he has fed it all to me. It's suddenly made me feel very relaxed and I let out a huge sigh. He takes me from Jim and guides me through the doors and throws me down on a big leather corner piece sofa.

"I thought you lived in Belgorod?" I had to ask because I was sure he said that mini mansion with medieval décor was his home. He smiles and replies, "I do, but I have many homes. I am after all at the top of my field here in Russia, I have a home in most cities" sniggering at me as if it was a stupid question. I don't have anything to say to that so just watch as he walks over to drinks cabinet. Returning to me he sits down beside me and is closer than I would have liked. He hands me a glass and my hand shakes as I reach for it and take it in a tight grip. Azarov is first to take a sip and I follow suit as he places an arm around my waist.

"Jim" he calls out and seconds later Jim's boots can be heard thudding against the floor. When he enters the room he stations himself before us and awaits instruction. Azarov clears his throat with one cough and then begins to address him. "Show Ms Connor to her room and make sure she is presentable for later." He smirks at me as he removes himself from his seat and then leaves the room plunging Jim and I into silence.

Taking a firm grip on my arm he pulls me from the comfort of my seat. He takes the glass from my hand as we walk to the door and places it on a small glass table, partly spilling the remaining contents. Re-entering the foyer he guides me to the bottom of the stairs and I gaze upward. They have a midway landing on either side then carry on upwards to a third floor. "Come on" he says happily and slides his palm down my arm to my hand and clasps it tightly. I follow obediently behind him up all the stairs until we reach the third floor landing.

It's a long corridor we face, multiple rooms off to the right and large ornate windows looking out over the drive to the left. Jim hurries along until he reaches the single door at the very end. He throws it open and swings me forward releasing my hand so I'm forced through doorway. He steps in behind me shutting the door and twisting the lock without even looking. The room is spacious, a big four poster bed, white with gold detailing and lace curtains sits in the centre against the far wall. A door to the side ajar showing glimpses of en-suite and a large window to the front similar to those in the corridor. On the opposite side a large set of doors leading out to a balcony. The room is certainly fit for a princess but not really to my liking.

I turn to face Jim, frowning at him and feeling the anger inside rise up so it is just bubbling beneath the surface. "You lied to me" I say calmly but in a firm tone trying not to lose control. Jim stands silent and it is really winding me up, I will not be ignored. "You lied…" I go to say again but he interjects finally.

"Yes, I lied but you would never have come with me otherwise. You have obliviously forgotten that someone out there is baying for your blood Carla and if Azarov doesn't hand you over it will be his. You see this will mean if he is killed I'm out of a job and I really don't need that," he says giving a snarl.

He's become so cold, I thought he genuinely cared about Peter and I getting home but I was wrong about a man, again. Getting to be a habit this. "I thought you… I " I begin with a sniff as I stare down at my feet unable to look at Jim without his blues eyes making me melt just as Liam's did. Before I know it he has made his way across the room and now stands before me. "Carla" he murmurs as I feel his fingers beneath my chin. He gently lifts it and his sparkling blue eyes meet with mine. They are just enough to set me off and the tears spill from my eyes like a fountain. "Oh Carla, I'm so sorry" he says softly and I'm lost in his words, they sound so genuine.

Leaning down he kisses me softly upon the lips, he doesn't try to invade my mouth as he has before but his lips stay pressed to mine for longer than a minute. Pulling away he presses both his thumbs onto me cheeks and wipes away the tears in one sweep. Here he is being so kind again, I'm so confused is this all part of a bigger plan or has he just bought me back here to save Azarov's skin. "That's better" he exclaims holding me at arms length and smiling lovingly. I give in and throw myself into his arms just needing to be comforted. Sobbing heavily into his chest I pluck up the courage to ask about Peter. "Can I see Peter?" I ask my voice trembling.

"Later" says Jim caressing my hair and squeezing me tightly.

I look back up at him smiling down at me and cannot resist those eyes shining. What I feel and what I think right now are at very different ends of the scale. Part of me wants Jim, wants him so much to make love to me but my heart knows I want Peter, I love Peter and nothing in this world could change that. "Stop" I whisper breathlessly at Jim pushing him back from me. He looks at me for just a moment with a confused smile. "You don't want me to stop baby," he says confidently leaning back in and kissing me again. "No Stop" I whisper confused myself and pushing him away again.

He cups my face with both hands and meets my gaze. "Carla, baby listen, you want this you know you do"

I shake my head as the tears begin again. He sweeps in kissing me hard on the lips and gently pushing me back in the direction of the bed. As I feel it against the backs of my knees I fall on to the soft mattress as Jim begins to trail soft kisses down my neck. His hands reach my hips and he slides me back further up onto the bed and my head reaches a pile of pillows. Scooping his hand beneath my head he lifts it and gently places it down on them.

My heart races as he straddles me and continues with routine putting me in a very vulnerable position. Ripping the tattered rag I'm currently wearing right down the centre and exposing my body to him his hands begin to explore. Pushing down his lips meet my ear and my breathing hitches momentarily as he speaks softly. "You do this for me, and maybe I'll do something to help Peter!"


	58. Chapter 58

A feather light kiss greets my lips as my eyes blink rapidly when I stir. Looking forward the first thing I see is Jim, smiling proudly at me, he lies on his side propped up by his elbow covered only by a sheet. "Evening" he says in a hushed tone leaning over kissing me again and stroking my cheek gently. I tense at the feel of his fingers on my skin and remember the last words he spoke before taking me.

"_You do this for me, and maybe I'll do something to help Peter!" _

"Peter" I mumble under my breath. "You said something to help Peter. What did you mean?" I ask confused. Is Peter in danger? Jim looks at me softness in his eyes and his voice low as he speaks. "Don't you worry about that." How can I not worry? I don't even know if Peter is still alive. Stray tears escape and are followed by large heaving sobs. "Carla?" says Jim concerned reaching over to pull me in close but I turn and face the window. I feel dirty, cheap and used. My intuition is telling me something is not right. Burying my head into the pillows I continue to sob into them.

I'm awoken by Jim shaking my shoulder gently "Come on sweetheart, I have to have you ready for dinner" he says softly. I feel rested and wonder how long I have slept this time. "Have I slept long?"

"A few hours" he smiles sweetly as he draws back the sheet. I feel myself blushing as he reveals my nakedness. He gives a chuckle and then hands me a silk robe. Taking my hand he helps me out of bed and is quick to aid me to the bathroom.

Heat comes rushing out of the door as we approach and I can't see clearly through all the steam. "I ran you a bath," Jim explains. Makes sense since he's dressed in a bathrobe, he must be coming to dinner too. I give a weak smile and disappear into the bathroom closing the door behind me. The water is just the right temperature as I slip beneath it. Bubbles surround me like a cosy blanket and I lay back and relax, closing my eyes and breathing in the fresh fruit aroma.

Soon I find my peace interrupted when Jim clicks open the door and wanders in. He reaches on the rack for a large white fluffy towel and opens it out. Making his way to the tub edge he waits for me to stand. Water sloshes up and over the sides as I raise myself up in a less ladylike fashion than I would have hoped. Smiling he stares at me and I can't help feeling shy. I reach out for the towel in an attempt to cover up my modesty but he snatches it away with a grin. I frown not finding any of this amusing, he giggles as he returns and hugs the towel around me.

Suddenly sweeping down Jim whisks me up in his arms, my breathing stops and my heart leaps into my throat at the surprise. Water dripping from my feet he carries me back to the bed. Throwing me down on it and my towel comes loose. I gather it quickly and hold it tightly together around my body. Laughing Jim backs away but I frown it's not funny! He makes me feel so vulnerable, not bad vulnerable like Frank did but good vulnerable like Peter does.

I have sat up on the bed, crossed leg like a small child as he comes back over to me. Placing a bag in front of me he urges me to remove the contents. I delve into it and pull out the expensive black silk dress he had picked back at the shopping centre. I stammer as I try to find the words to thank him but I can't accept it. I shake my head and he nods encourageably. "It's yours baby, a beautiful girl like you deserves nice things"

I'm completely speechless I can't take it. I shake my head and hand it to him but he doesn't take it and it falls to the floor. Reaching down he grabs it and then climbs on the bed beside me. "Take it," he insists as his eyes closely examine my body. I look down to my exposed arms and legs still painted in bruises from the beating he gave me back at the airport last week. "As an apology" he continues as he looks into my teary eyes.

He drops the dress in front of me and slides off the bed. He offers out his hand for me, I take it and slide off the bed straight into his warm embrace. The closeness lasts no longer than a second before I pull away and make my way over to the full-length mirror in the corner. Standing before me is a girl I hardly recognise, she looks so unwell. Pale skin tinted with faint purple and blue bruising, dark back circles around her eyes and odd cuts and bruises. She's a broken woman.

Jim creeps up behind me and places his hands around my waist. "Don't worry about any of that, you're still gorgeous." He whispers in my ear as he places a kiss on my cheek. Swinging the dress in front of me he holds it against me. "See, gorgeous," he says with a smile and I mirror his actions as I stare into his bright blue eyes shining brightly from over my shoulder in the mirror. Pulling it away he removes my towel so I stand naked in front of the mirror. The sight sickens me, as the bruises are still bright across my ribs, middle and breasts. Slipping the dress off the hanger and then tossing it away so it clatters against the dresser. "Turn around"

Once in the dress he twirls me back to face the mirror and a small smile graces my lips. It looks lovely. My hair has dried naturally and it is all frizzy but Jim is quick to fix it with a spray and running a comb through it. "There is underwear and make-up in that bag on the bed and some shoes in the box. Hurry up" he says as he kisses my shoulder and quickly makes an exit. I hurry to slap on some basic foundation and a little lipstick. Grabbing the underwear and the shoes I finish getting dressed and then take a seat on the bed and wait for Jim to return.

He's back in less than five minutes carrying a flat black box. "These were my mothers," he says opening the lid to expose a single row of dazzling diamonds. I place my hand against my chest shocked. "They're…they're absolutely stunning"

"For you" he says removing them and gesturing me to turn around so he can place them around my neck. "Perfect!" he exclaims as I turn back to him.

"Shall we" he says as he links arms with me. I give a nod and we leave the room to make our way to dinner with Azarov.


	59. Chapter 59

I take the seat Jim pulls out for me opposite Azarov and give a shy smile. Something about this whole situation feels awkward and the initial silence is terribly uncomfortable. Azarov gives a cough to break the silence but I keep my head bowed to avoid any uninvited eye contact. "You look very beautiful tonight Ms Connor" he begins and my head shoots up at my mention. His eyes sparkle as he flashes another of his handsome grins at me.

I swallow hard, my throat feeling rough and dry suddenly and reach out for the glass of wine sat before me. When I'd seen it on the table upon arrival I had promised myself I wouldn't touch it but I feel so uncomfortable right now that I think it'll help. My hand is unsteady as I raise it to my lips and take a mouthful.

Azarov continues to smile at me and then flashes his happy expression to Jim. As I place the glass back down on the table the contents slosh dangerously close to the rim but luckily doesn't spill. Taking a sideways glance I see Jim mirroring Azarov's expression so they are both staring at me. "What's going on?" I mumble, feeling confused by their strange behaviour and reaching again for the wine.

The silence seems to last an eternity and my nerves are getting worse by the second. "Are you going to tell her or do you want me to?" says Jim eventually. Tell me what? I think placing the glass to my lips and draining its contents quickly. "Thirsty?" asks Azarov with an amused expression. Leaving his seat he grabs the bottle from the sideboard removes the stopper and pulls me another generous serving. My hand clasps the glass before he's even finished pouring and no sooner has he stopped the glass is poised at my lips.

"Carla, sweetheart I think you should slow down," advises Jim but I don't want to listen to him. I have a bad feeling deep down in my gut and am not sure I'm going to like what they have to tell me. Clearing his throat Azarov begins to address me. The glass leaves my lips long enough to hear what he has to say. "I'm sorry be the barer of bad news but…."

We are suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a starter. The smell of cabbage fills the air and wafts into my nostrils as the soup is placed down before me. The waiter serving is quick to top up all of our wine glasses and then stands at the end of the table for Azarov to approve the dish. Upon receiving the satisfied nod the waiter bows before scurrying from the room.

The soup does not look appetizing at all and I really don't feel all that hungry anymore. What I want to know is the other half of that sentence that was going to follow that but. Jim and Azarov have dived into eating their soup and I stare blankly waiting to see if they continue. Jim slurps a spoonful and then clatters his spoon back into the bowl as he turns his attention to me. "It's getting cold Carla" he says gesturing down at my dish. I look down and fumble with my fingers in my lap nervously. "What did you mean bad news?" I ask my voice weak and broken as I try desperately to fight my tears. "You need to eat Carla, then we can talk" encourages Jim but I shake my head in disagreement.

"Not a word will be spoken until you eat all your meals." Interrupts Azarov but how can I eat. Reluctantly I lift the spoon and drink the weak soup from my spoon. It tastes vile and I really don't want to take another spoonful. I place my spoon gently back down in the cold soup and push the bowl away from me. Reaching across for my wine I take a swig to wash away the awful taste in my mouth. Minutes later I have drained the contents of the glass and go to reach for the bottle. Azarov's hand meets mine as I grip it; he places it firmly around mine and forces the bottle down on to the table. He looks me square in the eye as he says "I don't think you need anymore of that. Do you?"

Our eyes stay fixed on each other's, neither of us saying a word. The waiter re-enters to clear the plates and hurries around the table nervously as we both release the bottle. Returning to the trolley he has brought in he pops the dishes on the lower tier and serves from the top. He places a new covered dish in front of me and removes the lid to reveal small doughy parcels in a creamy sauce. It has a rich aroma of spices and smells a hell of a lot better than that soup. The waiter fills my glass emptying the bottle and taking it back to the trolley only to return and replace it with fresh.

Once we are alone again the guys tuck into their meal. I reach for my glass of wine and begin to drain it. "Eat" orders Jim snatching the glass from my hand and placing it far enough out of my reach. I frown at him and pick up my fork. Stabbing one of the parcels I hold it momentarily in the air before watching it fall back to the plate. I really don't want to eat. I just want to know this bad news because all sorts of ideas are running through my mind, silently torturing me.

I can't stand another minute of this. I drop my fork and it rings out as it hits the china and falls awkwardly from the side of the plate to the floor. Pushing back my chair as I force myself to stand and grab the fresh wine bottle. I quickly run from the room back into the living room area outside as the door slams shut after me. Throwing myself down on the sofa I bring the bottle to my lips and gulp the contents down until I begin to choke. Coughing and spluttering I let the bottle lower to my side and stare into space until Jim emerges from the dining room followed closely by Azarov.

They both sit opposite me and give disapproving looks. So what! I like a drink, especially when I can't cope. "Are you going to tell me the _'bad news' _now?" I ask sarcastically beginning to feel tipsy.

"It's Peter. I'm afraid he's, well this is difficult to tell you but he's…." Jim takes the lead but cannot finish.

I shake my head sure I know what's coming and that I don't want to hear it. Tears prick the corners of my eyes and I let my head drop almost into my lap.

"He's dead" Azarov blurts out coldly.


	60. Chapter 60

Tears begin to erupt from my eyes, slowly travelling down my cheeks and eventually drop to the floor. I can't look up, the words have washed over me and this doesn't seem real. We've been sitting in this deathly silence for what seems like an eternity before I hear shuffling and then feel the weight of another pushing down on the sofa. Suddenly I feel a comforting arm around my shoulders but it doesn't offer all that much comfort.

I feel empty, lifeless my mind completely blank. I haven't even fully comprehended what they have said. "Carla, you ok?" I hear Jim's soft voice close to my ear. "She's in shock," advises Azarov from across the way. Its true I am in shock, I actually feel like a ten-ton truck has hit me.

Overwhelmed by emotion I jump to my feet. "Am I ok? Am. ? I say my voice gradually getting louder with each word. I pause shortly and then shout as loud as I can "DO I LOOK OKAY?" Raising the almost empty bottle of wine to my lips and swallowing the contents my knees go weak and I fall to the floor in an ungraceful manner. The heavy sobs follow as I let the now empty bottle fall from my hand.

Slowly I raise my head and look to Jim "Please tell me it's not true," I beg. My eyes teary and vision blurred as I stare at him waiting for his reply. He covers his mouth with his hand and stares back at me, his eyes watery also. Staying mute he shakes his head. A part of me feels missing, like someone has ripped out my heart. "How?" I ask choked and feeling bile rise in my throat. I hold my hand across my mouth to stop myself being sick and shake my head. Jim quickly leaves the sofa and comes to my side comforting me again, arm around my shoulders so I lean against him searching for a warmth and comfort I know he is capable of.

"He was following us sweetheart, he was at the hospital and he would have hurt you," says Jim as he strokes my hair gently. I'm quick to pull away, confused by his statement. Who was at the hospital? I stare at him, my eyes wide and wait for him to elaborate. "I had to get you out of there, keep you safe no matter the cost"

"What?" I ask shaking my head and finding my tears drying up. Jim gives a deep sigh "Injamin's brother showed up, when I saw him that's when I made the decision we should get out. He tailed us for sometime as we drove away. I headed for the city to lose him," he explains. I think back to that night. I remember staring in the side mirror and seeing a black SUV close behind but it had suddenly disappeared when Jim sped past the motel.

"Dad was kind enough to say we could stay here, well once he'd found out that payment had been made in full" Jim continues. Dad? Payment? I frown on confusion. He is making no sense. "Dad?" I mumble looking from Jim to Azarov and back to Jim. "Oh, he's my dad. Well step-dad if you want to get technical. It's a long story but the basis is that when I first went off to join the Navy dad died from a heart attack. Mum came out to be with me at the base and it was here in Russia where she met" he explains gesturing to Azarov as his words trail off.

"Surprise!" he says with that devilish grin as I look in his direction.

This is crazy, I can't believe what I am hearing and what on earth has this to do with Peter being dead! "And what do you mean payment in full?" I ask.

"Well Peter is dead, Injamin's brother has what he wanted. Revenge" he answers.

"He….he…he killed" I stutter not able to get all the words out. But Azarov knows what I'm aiming for and explains.

"You see Ms Connor. It's a little bit complicated but yes he killed Peter"

"Complicated?" I ask confused again. I'm suddenly feeling very frustrated. What is going on? Both of them sit quiet and don't say a word. "Tell me!" I demand staring at Jim for answers. He at least owes me that.

"I knew Peter a long time ago. We we're in the Navy together" Jim starts and his whole demeanour has suddenly changed. He is cold, his eyes holding my gaze firmly. They burn into me as he opens his mouth to continue. "We were friends for a long while until he wronged me" he says as he rises to his feet and stands over me so that my head is arched backwards as I stare up at him.

"Wronged you?" I ask weakly so unsure and feeling intimidated by the man stood over me. "Yes Carla. Wronged me!" says Jim his voice firm as he offers out a hand to me to help me to my feet. I didn't hesitate in taking it because I'm actually scared of him right now. I honestly don't know what he is trying to do, he blows hot and cold with me and I wish I didn't have the feelings I do for him.

Dragging me behind him we leave Azarov sat alone. He strides up the stairs until we are back at the bedroom. He twirls me around in front of him and slams me into the door, his expression hard and cold as he stares down at me. In this very moment he is a stranger and reminds me of how Frank had looked that night he had attacked me.

Reaching down he opens the door and it flies open behind me. I stumble backwards and would have fallen had Jim not caught me. Walking me backwards he heads for the bed before slamming me up against one of the four posters. "How did Peter wrong you?" I ask meekly.

"My girlfriend. He ran off with my girlfriend" Jim spits at me through gritted teeth. I swallow hard not knowing what will happen next and scared to death. He leans in and I think he's going to kiss me but his lips meet my ear. Jim's breath is warm against my skin and tickles a little.

"It's payback time," he whispers as he takes a firm grip on my neck.


	61. Chapter 61

Jim lets go suddenly shocking me and I cough as I pant for breath. He grabs the tops of my arms and moves me towards the back wall slamming me into it to continue his speech. My body rings out in pain as my old wounds are bought to the surface. "He stole my girlfriend and so now I will take his," he threatens through gritted teeth.

I'm trembling as his hands travel up and grasp my face. Eyes wide with fright I stare up at Jim, his gaze firmly fixed on mine with an evil twinkle in his eye. It's all making perfect sense now, why Jim has been grooming me. He leans in planting a firm kiss upon my lips.

"Please stop," I beg as he pulls away. Jim obliges and lets go of me taking a few steps back to increase the distance between us. I begin to feel a little more relaxed but my mind is spinning with all the information I have been given tonight.

I look at Jim who seems to have recovered his soft demeanour. "Can you go?" I ask coldly. I really just want to be alone, think everything through. Jim shakes his head instead of saying no. Obviously I didn't make myself clear. "I want you to go," I order and no sooner have the words left me I remember that I had told Frank the very same but he hadn't listened. Jim still stands motionless. "GO!" I scream but he comes over to me instead. Why do men not listen to me?

Putting an arm round my waist he pulls me close and speaks softly. "You need some space, I respect that. I will be back later" he finishes as he plants a soft kiss on my forehead. I wait for him to leave before moving and sitting on the edge of the bed. Focusing out of the window I stare at the stars twinkling and lose myself in thought.

Peter's dead? He's dead? Nope still doesn't make sense. And now Jim, _"He stole my girlfriend and so now I will take his." _Doesn't make sense. I think about it repeating the sentence over and over. How can he have me if Peter is dead? He can't take me from him if he's no longer here! There is a dull ache in my head as I over think the scenario. I just don't understand how he can take me from a dead man? Unless?

Welling up with tears I replay my last thought. Unless? I feel myself frowning as I try to piece this together. He can only take me from Peter if he's not dead! I sit in silence for a few minutes trying to comprehend my last thought. Repeating it in silence over and over until my lips start moving and then the words slowly come through. "He's not dead? Not dead?" I ask myself. The more I say it the more believable it sounds.

Time to move, Jim said he'd be back later so I wonder how long I have to try and sneak out. It's ludicrous I know but if I can just sneak out and get back to the hospital I'll find Peter there, safe and well. Hopefully. I hurry over to the door and pull it open just an inch to sneak a look down the corridor. It's deserted, I'm pleased if I'm honest because I thought Jim would be playing guard just outside.

Sneaking around the door I take my first few steps into the corridor before freezing to check my surroundings again and make sure Jim isn't heading back up. Nope it's still silent so I continue, hurrying on tiptoes to the end and stopping to peer down the stairs and check my root to the door is clear.

I'm feeling confident and very pleased with myself as my bare foot meets with the marble floor as I leave the bottom step of the staircase. It's only a short walk to the door and I take a deep breath checking left and right as if I'm about to cross the road. Still in the clear as far as I can tell I make my way across the lobby careful not to make myself heard.

I'm so close, my hand on the door handle when I feel it, a firm grip on my shoulder. I swallow hard. Shit! "Going somewhere?" My heart sinks at the sound of his voice, its Jim. Tears suddenly spill from my eyes as I let my hand slip away from the door. "Well?" he prompts and I know he won't quit until I answer. Shaking my head I try to hold back the tears before I turn to face him.

"Why don't I believe you?" he asks when we are stood face to face.

I shake my head I don't know Jim maybe because I'm lying. "Trying to find Peter?" he blurts out from nowhere.

"He's not dead," I whisper.

Jim laughs, a deep hollow sound. It's haunting. "He's alive," I whisper again hoping for clarification but Jim's not giving anything away.

I know it; I know deep down that Peter is alive and well. Well alive at least, being well I'm not so sure about, he was in a pretty bad state when we left him at the hospital. Jim knows I know but he's hiding his rage well until he reaches out for my arm and takes it in a firm grip.

"You're mine now" he snarls as he drags me back to the foot of the stairs. I try my hardest to dig my heels into the marble and watch him struggle to move me but his strength knows no bounds and he is able to pull me easily back up the first flight of stairs. We stop momentarily on the first floor landing and Jim re-affirms his position.

Twisting behind my arm behind my back and holding me in front of him before pushing me up the second flight. It's harder for me to fight against him this way and before I know it we are back in the bedroom. "I won't be leaving you again," he snaps as he throws me face first into the bed. Gripping my arm again he flips me over so I'm face up as he stares down at me. His pupils large and dark like an abyss. The room suddenly seems blanketed in cold air and I shiver as my surrounding turn grey.

'_SMACK' _

Out of nowhere I feel Jim's hand as it makes contact with my skin. Heat rushes to the top of my cheek and around my eye where he has just hit me and under my skin I can feel the swelling and bruising as it develops. It was so sudden it's taken me by surprise. Like a hurt animal I want to run but am frozen to the spot afraid of another but am surprised to find he walks around the bed. I turn my head to watch him nervous at the thought of things to come. Jim turns down the sheets and fluffs the pillows before ordering me to _'come here.' _I feel like a dog. What's he going to order me next, sit? Roll over? Or maybe his favourite Play dead?


	62. Chapter 62

Sitting down in front of Jim I slip into the bed and watch him intently as he tucks me in as a loving parent would their baby girl. I know what he's doing this is some sick game. Well no one makes a fool of me, I'm Carla Connor and I may have hit rock bottom but I can't stay there, not now. If Jim wants to play games then bring it on, two can play and I play dirty. Always have.

Jim lies next to me and I carefully plan my move. We've already done this and I was sure it meant something so I'm sure I can manage it one more time to gain his trust. I can't wait any longer. It is time. I reach across to Jim placing one hand at the side of his face and the other on his chest as I hoist my self up and across him so I sit straddling him. His face lights up instantly with a mix of shock and surprise and I lean down to make my first move.

I kiss him hard on the lips and then pull away slowly sitting up. He doesn't miss a trick and his hands are soon placed firmly on my thighs. I'm pleased though and give a small seductive smile because I now know I have him in a vulnerable position. It's a wonderful feeling when the tables are turned.

Jim's hands travel up and under the dress. I feel the soft touch of silk against my skin as the dress travels up my body and bunches up around my hips. His hands continue over the silk until they reach the straps on my shoulders. Hooking his fingers under the straps he trails them down my arms and the dress slips down exposing the tops of my breasts. I've let Jim take the lead so he won't become suspicious but I will not let him get on top of me. We are going to do this my way or no way.

Jim tries to sit up but I push him back down into the pillows. "Relax" I whisper in the most seductive voice I can muster. He licks his lips and shuffles beneath me, gosh he's keen. I take a deep breath and lean down again to kiss him. Our lips are almost touching when he starts fumbling with my dress. I'm forced to sit up so he can pull it over my head but I stay focused and am straight back to the task at hand planting a kiss upon his lips. Jim's hands move slowly down my side to my underwear and peel them away. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes I allow Jim to take me and I call on the best act. Time to fake it.

As I stir I push against the softness of the pillow as it rubs against my cheek. I wonder how long I have been asleep because it wasn't part of my plan. Jim is snoring contently at my side fortunately not cuddling me. I slowly push down the covers making sure not to disturb him. The bed gives a creek as I sit up and swing my legs out gently placing them on the freezing floor. Luckily on the chair by the window lies the silk dressing gown Jim had handed me earlier. Grabbing it I throw it round my freezing body.

Jim makes a loud snort then continues snoring but it makes me jump and turn to check he is still deep in sleep. My heart is racing and I take a few deep breaths to calm it before making my way to the door. I keep checking over my shoulder as I click it open and then peer out to check for my other obstacle. Azarov.

"You're wasting your time" I hear from behind as I wrap my hand around the front door handle. Seriously what is my luck like? Not again. I feel my heart sinking lower than it did earlier when I was stopped. Fingers wrap around my wrist and take it in a firm grip. I know from the voice it's not Jim, it's Azarov and I wonder what's next. No wait don't tell me he wants revenge too! These criminals are more complicated than anyone I've ever met and I've met some seriously twisted people, hell I've even had intimate relationships with them!

Taking me into the living room area from earlier he guides me to a couch and I take a seat when instructed. Making his way over to the drinks cabinet he clatters about before returning to the seating area. Handing me a glass with a more than generous serving of whiskey and then taking a seat opposite me. Azarov takes a swig of his drink, swallows and lets out a satisfied gasp. I raise the glass to my lips and take a long drink looking down towards the floor.

"You won't find him out there you know" he advises, a smug tone to his voice.

"Find who?" I ask trying to play dumb. My confidence I had felt back in the bedroom having abandoned me leaving me once again feeling like the vulnerable party.

"Peter" he advises happily. It's then I make eye contact, how does he know I'm looking for Peter and not just trying to escape?

"I told Jim you wouldn't buy his bullshit story about your boyfriend being dead but would he listen." He states.

"But you did, didn't you? So what I want to know is how did you suddenly work it all out?" he asks in a quizzical manner. I continue to slurp at my drink not sure how to answer.

"Something he said" I eventually answer after a long silence and I've emptied my glass.

"Who Jim?" he asks amused and I nod. "He never was a bright boy when it came to a pretty girl. You'll be happy with him"

The words hit me hard. Happy with him, what's that supposed to mean? "I'm with Peter," I mumble making my place clear. Azarov rises to his feet and comes over to me, holding my arm firmly again and hauling me up on my feet. He grabs my chin and digs his fingers into my cheeks. It scares me so much I let go of the glass and it smashes as it hits the floor.

"You want the truth?" he asks forcing my head to nod. "Peter isn't dead, but he's not where you think he is either so no point you going looking for him" he threatens "My Jimmy is who you worry about now. Do I make myself clear?" he growls as tiny droplets of spit splash against my face. "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?" he yells letting go of me so I lose balance and fall back into the sofa.

I nod in agreement but have a question I want answered. Stating my terms I ask him clearly "Where is Peter, I just want to know he's safe?" I plead and happy to oblige Azarov answers in his own way. A deep, evil chuckle escapes and I finally understand why they have kept me here.

I look up at Azarov his eyes twinkling just like Jim's and then it hits me. "You've got him here" I whisper.


	63. Chapter 63

Bolting from the sofa I run to get out of the room. My only thought Peter. I must find him I repeat in my head over and over only too aware that Azarov is hot on my heels. My bare feet slam against the carpeting on the stairs as I run up them and reach the first landing.

Making a quick decision I head to the left and up the stairs heading in the opposite direction to the bedroom where I hope Jim is still sleeping. Glancing over my shoulder I see Azarov gaining on me, he wouldn't be chasing me like this if he didn't think I could find Peter easily. My whole body aches and I'm completely out of breath as I reach the top landing.

There aren't as many doors this side of the house and it has a strange air about it. The corridor isn't lit up like the other side; it's cold, dingy and has a strong smell of damp. It chokes me momentarily and I try the first door. Locked. Moving on I try the next and then the last. Both locked. It leaves me with only one choice; the door at the end identical to that the other side and I conclude it must be a bedroom.

Panic and fear mix up deep inside as I hear Azarov storming up the corridor behind me. My hand touches the handle but I pull away. Do I really want to know if Peter's in there? And if he is the state in which I could find him?

"Cold" says Azarov in an amused tone.

"What?" I ask shocked as I turn to face him, teary eyed where I have just thinking about Peter.

I can see an image of him in my head, so ill that he looks like a bag of bones, skin leathery and pale struggling to breathe and barely alive. The thoughts cause the developed tears to spill from my eyes soaking my cheeks. Poor Peter, this is entirely my fault I never should have left him. In fact I should have listened to him back in those woods because then all the feelings I have for Jim would never have surfaced.

"Please where is he?" I beg Azarov as I sink down against the door.

"Wouldn't you like to know" he teases crouching down in front of me. A shiver runs right through me as he cracks his knuckles. I flinch as he raises his hand thinking he's going to hit me but it claps against my skin as it grips my wrist.

Azarov pulls me to my feet and drags me back along the corridor, down the stairs to the first landing and back up the other side. My tears continue to fall as we approach the bedroom. I dig my heels into the floor and pull against Azarov's tight grip. Yards from the door I start to scream and fight harder to break free "Let go please, please" I beg my voice so high pitched I'm surprised it hasn't shattered the windows and it makes my throat feel raw.

Thrashing myself about behind Azarov, hair covering my face and screaming as he pulls me closer to the door. We suddenly stop and he flings me forward. I expect to hit the door but instead find myself caught in Jim's arms. Instantly I silence myself, swallowing hard and looking up into his eyes. He stares down at me momentarily a look of confusion on his face.

"What's going on?" he asks moving his attention to Azarov.

"You need to keep an eye on this one son, tried to escape" he says with a wink and then turns his back and walks away.

Jim pulls me back into the bedroom before letting go of me. I stumble backwards as I try to regain my balance and then glance up at him. He looks angry; really angry a bit more like the Jim I'd first met on that boat back in Southampton. "What were you doing Carla?" he asks getting up close and grabbing my arms tightly, making me catch my breath momentarily.

"I know he's here" I whisper, giving him the most intense stare I can manage.

"Peter?" he chuckles and I give a nod. "Of course he's here" he says, an amused grin still on his face.

"Where?" I snap feeling a rage build inside me. Why do these two think keeping me away from Peter is going to change everything? I love Peter, or at least I think I do.

"Doesn't mean he's alive though," he mutters as I stare at him wide-eyed and panicky, hoping that is just a sick joke.

Jim gives and evil cackle and stares at me, eyes shining as he takes pleasure in my pain. "Please tell me where he is?" I beg sniffling and reaching out for his hand. He cruelly snatches it away and continues to laugh at me. "Please Jim, please do this for me"

"What do I get?" he says smugly.

I look down at my feet. I would do anything to see Peter, make sure he really is ok. Wouldn't I? Jim wants something, but what?

"What do you want?" I ask quietly not sure if I want to know the answer.

"Oh I think you know," he says as he grabs my chin firmly, lifting it and making me look at him. His eyes stare in to mine with a burning intensity and I can't help but feel those fires igniting.

There is a tense, uncomfortable silence between us. We both know what the other wants but can I really give Jim what he wants? Can I give myself to him? More to the point do I want to, maybe I could just find Peter myself? I take a deep breath and then go to give Jim my answer.

"Ok" is all I can manage with a small nod.

"So we have a deal then?" he says happily.

"Yes" I whimper, upset by the whole ordeal but what else can I do?

Jim's expression turns cold and then he turns his back on me. I stand silently behind him waiting patiently for him to take me to Peter or at least tell me where he is. At the thought of Peter my eyes tear and my mind races, going into overdrive about whether he is still alive or not. Azarov had said he was okay but with Jim's comments I can't be sure. I really don't know what I'd do if I found him dead. I'm so lost in thought I don't see Jim move but the door slams suddenly and its snaps me instantly back to the here and now. He's gone. Hearing a fumbling at the lock I run over to the door and pound it with my fists.

"Jim. Jim. We had a deal!" I shout through the door as I hear him walking away.

"We had a deal," I cry as I turn and slide down the door, hitting it with a bump.


	64. Chapter 64

"Carla?" I hear a weak whisper and instantly look up scanning the room. My heart thumps against my chest as I clamber up on my feet using the door for support. "Jim?" I call out into the dimly lit room only to be met by silence. "Jim this isn't funny" I warn as goose pimples develop on my arms and I feel the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand. Suddenly the room has become cold and unwelcoming and I shiver.

"Carla" I hear the voice again. A little clearer this time even though it is croaky and the speech is broken a little. "Carla where are you?" the voice asks again, still weak and croaky.

"Who's there?" I ask scared, my heart pounding so loudly I can hear it and I have butterflies in my stomach.

"Carla?" the voice repeats, quietly starting to sound breathless.

Tears stream down my face as I continue to scan the room, looking everywhere for the shadow of the voice's owner. The room is again silent as I step forward closer to the bed. No one can have got in Jim locked the door, unless they were already here. Heavy breathing breaks the silence; it's as scary as the part where the maniac is just about to attack the victim in a horror movie. The breathing is broken and hitched, just like the speech and scares me half to death.

"Please, who's there?" I plead.

"Carla? Is that you? Carla? Are you there?" asks the voice, louder than before and it sounds familiar, too familiar. I pinch myself in a hope to prove I'm just dreaming, it's just a nightmare but it's not. Unfortunately it's real. "Peter?" I ask in a shaky voice but no answer comes my way. Panic sets in, where is he? If he's here it means he's seen… I stop myself I can't think about that, he is going to hate me. I slap my hand over my mouth to try and stop myself being sick.

Calming myself I take a deep breath and go to address Peter again but he beats me to it. "Where is Carla?" he asks this time. Without thinking I reply "I'm here Peter, where are…" but I don't get chance to finish before he speaks again. "Please is she ok?" Only then do I realise he is not in this room with me but I can hear him. How?

I run to the door, stupidly thinking it's been unlocked but it stays firmly in place as I pull at it. Pressing my ear up against the door I listen carefully for any noise outside but there's nothing. Peter's voice suddenly echoes around the room. "Carla!" he shouts his voice suddenly sounding stronger and I can't help but breakdown in tears. Where is he?

I throw myself down onto the bed, grabbing a pillow and sobbing uncontrollably into it as I squeeze it tight. "Oh Peter, where are you?" I muffle against the plush pillow. "Right here" says a voice from behind me at the foot of the bed. My sobs have been so loud I haven't heard a thing, especially not the door. I jump up from the pillow and turn expecting to see Peter but am faced with something much worse.

Jim stands waiting for me, the light glowing from the corridor through the open door casting his shadow over me. "Where's Peter?" I demand, wiping away the tears from my eyes.

"Carla!" I hear Peter's voice echo around the room again as the biggest grin I've seen appears upon Jim's face.

"Where is he?" I scream desperately. "Jim… Jim we had a deal" I shout at him but he doesn't move a muscle or even flinch.

I launch myself up and at him, hitting him hard on his solid chest with clenched fists. Quicker than I can pull them away he has established firm grip on both wrists and drags me off the end of the bed. Wrapping his arms firmly around my waist he pushes himself up against me and his lips press against mine, until his tongue parts my lips and invades my mouth.

All the anger and other emotions I felt a moment ago slowly fade away as I find myself lost in his embrace. As much as I would like to resist this right now his advances just catch me off guard and I find myself unable to keep control. My hands trail down his chest and rest on his belt. I find I'm unbuckling it before I can stop myself and his hands have travelled down my back and rest on my bottom gently squeezing it. We both know exactly where this is going and all thoughts of Peter have escaped my mind. Jim's lips slowly travel down my chin and onto my neck, shoulder and then back to the top of my breasts. My closed eyes flutter gently as he plants a long line of soft kisses and I find myself surrendering to him.

Throwing me back down on the bed making me catch my breath, but I'm happy and give him a smile as he crawls on top of me. I reach up and pull his face down to mine so our lips meet and we are locked in a passionate kiss. I'm falling hard and fast for Jim, he's exciting, adventurous and he just does something to me I can't explain. He pulls away and smiles down at me before swooping back down to finish what he'd started on my neck and chest when we had been standing.

I've become so oblivious to our surroundings that I haven't even registered that the sound of Peter's voice flooding the room has ceased. Eyes closed I lie back and enjoy every moment of Jim pleasuring me, his touch, his warmth, his love until we are suddenly interrupted.

"Carla" says the choked voice. It pulls me out of my trance and straight back to reality. Jim has stopped moving but hovers over me like a big black cloud, threatening rain on a perfect moment. Craning my neck upwards to look past Jim and I see Peter. Azarov is propping him up as they stand in the doorway blocking what little light was coming through from outside.

I struggle against Jim as I try to push him off but he pushes me back down into the bedding holding me firmly in place. "Peter!" I call out wanting him to hurry over and help me. "Please let me see him" I beg Jim as he settles himself firmly on top of me. Lifting my head from the bed again I try to look for Peter at the doorway but they've vanished. "Peter!" I scream hoping that if they've stepped in the room he will reply but I'm met by only silence.

Jim silences me with a kiss and then continues to find his release but I can't enjoy myself, not now. I feel guilty, poor Peter; he should never have witnessed this. I must find him I have to explain. No sooner has Jim climbed off me I'm up and on my feet. Tightening the dressing gown around me so I'm no longer exposed I hurry to the door but Jim is twice as quick and firmly placing his hand on it pushes it shut before I have chance to try and get away.

"Oh no Carla" he says with another satisfied grin and quick shake of his head.

"But…but you said you would take me to him" I stammer.

He grins and lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head as he cups my cheek with his free hand.

"Oh sweetheart, you asked me to tell you where he was, and I did, in fact I even showed you he was here. So I kept my part of the bargain now it's your turn" he explains. My heart sinks, I made a deal with the Devil and I've lost.


	65. Chapter 65

I run to the bathroom and slam the door shut with more force than I'd actually intended and quickly turn the lock. I let out a deep sigh as I turn and fall back against it, this is now the only place I can escape Jim. I am so disappointed, every plan I have had so far this trip has just backfired. I listen for a second outside to see if Jim is just the other side of the door but am only met by silence. Do I dare open the door and look? See if I can escape?

No I'm not brave enough for that, maybe I should just relax, have a bath to try and wash away my sins and make a proper plan, thinking it through fully before putting it into action. Yes I think that is a good idea.

I cross the cold tiled floor to the bath and lean across to turn on the hot water. A powerful burst of water appears and beats against the tub as it begins to fill.

Steam begins to fill the room as the hot water radiates heat from the surface as I tip in some lavender bath oil. Undoing the tie around the dressing gown I let it slip open and then shrug it off my shoulders. It's silky material slides down my arms and away from my body with ease until it pools at me feet. Stepping away from it I go over to the mirror, slightly blotchy with patches of condensation and examine my body.

I'm still covered head to toe in bruising but any swelling I had has gone down. The bruising has become grey in parts and lighter shades of blue and purple. I have a small scar at my side where Rafael originally stabbed me and different cuts and grazes on my legs and feet. I look good enough to give the corpse bride a run for her money with my drawn, dark circled eyes and pale skin.

The mirror is completely covered in condensation by the time I've finished that I can't see anything as a reflection. I lift my hand to it and wipe a strip clear with my palm. Taking a step back I look up into the mirror only to see the image of Jim behind me. It makes me jump and my heart starts racing as I turn quickly to face him.

Standing before me I stare him in the eye, totally confused by how he has got in. I'm sure I locked that door. I hear the water making an irregular dripping noise and remember I was running a bath. I look over to the bath tub, water flowing over the rim, cascading to the floor creating a big puddle that covers the tiles and is slowly creeping closer and closer. I watch it thinking that I should go over and turn the tap off but find myself distracted when I feel Jim's breath against my neck.

It makes me jump again when I see him standing right in front of me so close we are practically touching. He's snuck up on me quietly but then again he's an expert at catching me unawares. Jim places his hands on my cheeks and they send a shiver through me. They are so cold and feel wet. I take them in mine and peel them away, but he over powers me and places them back. "Jim, your hands are wet," I say stupidly and he nods with a smile. Dragging his hands down my cheeks and onto my neck and to my chest before settling them for just a moment and then letting go.

He chuckles as I search his eyes for an explanation and then gazes down to where his hands had last sat on my skin. Finger print trails of blood are painted down my chest stopping with two bloody handprints on the tops of my breasts. "Jim?" I ask my voice trembling. I hope this isn't the blood of whom I think it is. Tears re-emerge and spill from my eyes. "Is this…" I try with broken speech, but I can't finish I can't ask.

Jim gives a sadistic grin and nods, answering my question. This is one hell of a sick game they're playing. "Have you…have you killed him?" I ask in a desperate voice. Jim is silent for a moment before answering. "Not exactly"

The vomit is sat right at the back of my throat so high I can taste it, I want to swallow it back down but can't. I double over vomit spilling from my lips into the bath water now collecting around my feet. I gasp for breath as I raise my head slowly, the vomit taste still coating my mouth.

As my eyes slowly travel up the length of Jim's body I notice tiny droplets of blood up his shirt and am quick to lower my head as the bile rises in my throat. The smell of lavender from the bath water isn't helping either now mixed with the strong smell of sick. Jim hovers over me like a black rain cloud as I continue to throw up all over the floor and my bare feet. Feeling completely overwhelmed by the whole situation, I swing my arm out and knock Jim away running out of the bathroom and sitting on the edge of the bed.

I sharply intake the fresher air and try to calm myself and steady my nerves. If they haven't exactly killed Peter what have they done to him? Left him half dead or something. I throw my head into my hands and let my tears soak them not knowing what to do now. I'm at my wits end I've tried everything to find Peter and escape and just keep failing. It's not long until I sense Jim's presence, parting my fingers I stare down and see his bare feet in front of me.

Taking a deep breath I pull my head up and look at an out of focus Jim through my teary eyes. "You want to see him?" he asks, his voice cold and robotic. I can't believe my what I'm hearing; did he just ask me if I want to see Peter?

"Yes, yes please" I answer desperately. Jim offers out his bloodstained hand and I take it letting him pull me from the bed. I don't know what to expect but certainly don't expect to see Peter in a good way so I must prepare myself. Jim hands me the soaking wet satin robe he has picked up from the bathroom floor to put on. It's cold and wet against my skin and might as well be see through for all it hides.

Taking a grip on my hand again Jim pulls me behind him back along the corridor, down the stairs to the first landing, across and up the stairs to the other side and into the damp corridor of locked doors Azarov had chased me down earlier. We stop at the door right at the end, the one I had stopped myself at. I can feel the cold draft and smell the damp as Jim reaches down for the door handle.

Releasing it the door clicks open a fraction and I can feel an icy blast upon my skin. Jim pushes the door back slowly revealing the room. A strong beam of moonlight streams in through the window but the room is empty, nothing there.

"Jim what's going…" I start hoping this isn't some kind of joke as he pushes me gently into the room. But as we come into the space that's when I see him, the image of a man I know and it will haunt me forever.


	66. Chapter 66

He stands tall his features shadowed and illuminated by the moonlight. I gasp, frightened by the sight of him. Jim has well and truly set me up, he said he was taking me to Peter. I turn to run but Jim blocks me, grabbing me and twisting me back round holding me firmly in place.

He steps forward and runs a smooth cold palm down my face. Clearing his throat and starring at me with an intense gaze he speaks. "So. This is the whore who murdered my brother," he says grabbing my face and digging his fingers in to my cheeks painfully. His words offend me but I can't seem to think of an appropriate comeback.

"What do you want?" I eventually ask, staring him directly in the eye and making sure he knows I am not going to let him intimidate me. He smiles, an evil smile, his top lip curling. "Nothing" he says in a whisper, pronouncing it perfectly.

"You must want some…" I start to ask but am soon distracted by a stirring from behind him. I move my head to look round him but his hand pulls it back in firmly place. The stirring continues, incomprehensible mutters and odd coughs. "Peter!" I cry out hoping that if it's him he will respond.

He laughs at me, a deep, cruel cackle as he let's me go throwing my face awkwardly to one side so it sends a shooting pain down my neck. The coughing behind him has increased in volume as he continues to stare at me, enjoying the torture.

"I thought I had what I wanted but, seeing you I may have to rethink" he says but it sounds more like a threat as he steps to one side revealing what whose hiding behind him. He steps into the shadows as the single beam of moonlight illuminates a sight that makes me sick to my stomach.

Peter sits tied to a chair, the rope digging into his flesh marking it. His head hung low, white shirt soaked in blood. As he coughs violently I see blood come from his mouth and dribble to the floor. "Peter" I whisper, shocked at what they have done to him. His cough hacks away from the back of his throat and a darker almost black in colour blood spills, flowing strongly and puddles at his feet.

"Peter!" I scream as I wrestle against Jim, trying to break free but he's to strong and manages to hold me firmly back against him.

Injamin's brother steps back into my line of vision blocking my view of Peter completely. I screw my face up and frown, feeling a rage mixed with all the upset I feel building inside me. "What have you done to him?" I ask through gritted teeth. The anger getting worse and making me feel confident and strong.

"What have I done to him!" he exclaims with a smile. "Oh No Carla, what have you done to him?" he states with a chuckle. What have I done to him? What does that mean?

Jim's grip loosens slightly and I'm waiting for Injamin's brother to elaborate. I stand ready to pounce, what ever he says next I'm ready, ready to launch myself at him, ready to fight. "You did this to him, you killed my brother. I loved him so and you took him away," he says with a snarl. So what? He was an evil man!

He steps closer to me, our noses touching as he pushes his face against mine. Our lips touch briefly before he moves his lips up to my ear. Is breath is hot and sticky against my skin as he whispers's in my ear. "Let's see how you like it, I'm going to take away your love!" he snarls.

It happens in the blink of an eye, he's taken only a few steps away from me reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a gun. It points straight at Peter, right at his head. I can't help breaking down and sinking to the floor, Jim still holding my arms tightly as they hang awkwardly above me. The tears tumble down my cheeks as I try to breathe. The thought that at any second he could pull that trigger and take Peter from me is so painful, it makes my head and heart hurt.

"Please" I whimper, looking up at him through my teary eyes.

But he laughs and looks away, pretending to line up his shot at Peter properly. Seconds later my arms feel relaxed as Jim kneels down on the floor behind me and pulls me close wrapping me up safely in the protection of his arms. "Make him stop," I beg hoping that whatever feelings he has for me will overcome his need for revenge. Injamin's brother walks over to Peter and pushes his head up with the gun. It's limp and falls back down but he forces Peter to raise his head again and throw it back. It's obvious he's in pain from the groan that escapes him.

Peter's eyes are swollen so badly he can barely open them, his nose and lips gushing with blood and bruising painting his cheeks and jaw line. It makes my tears fall harder and faster and my heart races as it thumps away painfully. The gun rests firmly against Peter's temple and he smiles across at me. "Are you ready?" he teases.

"Make him stop!" I scream. "Make him stop! Jim please" I beg panting for breath and feeling choked by my tears.

"I think that's enough," booms a voice from the doorway. I don't think I've ever been so grateful for Azarov's interruption. His shoes tap against the hardwood floor as he crosses it to come to us. He gives us a stern look as he passes by and goes to Injamin's brother. "Gun Now!" I hear him order but can't hear the whispered exchange that follows.

Turning he goes to leave "Boys!" he snaps an order and Injamin's brother strides away behind him. Their footsteps stop at the door. "Jim!" his voice booms. Jim lets go of me and I fall forward placing my palms out before me to keep me steady. I turn to look as he makes his way over to his dad. My eyes dart quickly between all three of them as they watch me from the door.

Azarov steps forward of the boys and look my way. His voice low as he addresses me with a blank expressions. "You don't have long. Say your goodbye's Ms Connor"


	67. Chapter 67

The second they close the door I pull myself together and scramble up onto my feet. I rush over to Peter, whose head has fallen forward towards his lap again. Grabbing Peter's head I try to be gentle and I support it to hold it up. I stare at him, blinking away my tears as he struggles through his narrow bruised eyes to see me.

"Carla?" he asks in a weak, husky voice.

"Yep" I answer, choking on the word as I let it out.

I can't help but to start crying again, he's so hurt, covered in blood and its all my fault. I watch him flinch as my fingers brush over his bruises. "Oh Peter," I mutter breathlessly. I feel his pain; after all I know exactly how it feels to be on the receiving end of one of Jim's beatings. I take his hands in mine and fall before him landing on my knees.

Resting my head, I sob heavily into his lap soaking his jeans with my heavy tears. He coughs and splutters as I lift my head. Blood flows from his mouth, seeping through the small gap in his lips and narrowly misses me. "You okay?" he asks me when he finally manages to get it under control. I nod my head in response as I stare at him with my wide eyes.

"They told me to say goodbye" I utter, scared by the thought of what they mean.

"Untie Me," says Peter after a long pause. I look at him confused, what good will that do, we can't run, not the state he's in. "Untie me" he orders and makes himself cough but I sit before him shaking my head. If I do it'll probably just land us in deeper water.

"Carla Connor do you ever do as you are told?" he jokes. "Come on untie me," he laughs sounding stronger and stronger with every passing second. It must be the adrenalin. My fingers fumble against the rope, breaking my nails as I try to loosen the knots. Finally managing to break him free of his restraints he reaches for me, hands shaking before my eyes. I take them giving him a smile and rise to my feet. "Help me up" he says breathlessly.

Peter takes a minute to find his balance, but once gained pulls me in close and hugs me tight. I know he's in pain, from the rate of his breathing but right now I'm just so happy he doesn't hate me for what he saw with Jim. It would have been a perfect moment had I not ruined it.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"It was nothing you know," I say after only being met with silence.

"Do you trust me Carla?" he asks suddenly.

"Of course" I re-assure him.

He looks at me as he holds me at arms length, his eyes examining me closely as if looking for proof. It seems like forever until he pulls me back into him and squeezes me tight. "Then none of that matters. You have nothing to apologise for." He says softly rubbing my back with one hand as his other caresses my hair. Suddenly I feel the warmth of his breath moving down my cheeks until it stops and beats against my lips. As he plants a firm kiss on my lips I feel butterflies in my stomach.

He pulls away from me, happy and smiling, I grin back we're like two teenagers. "I love you Peter" I express getting lost in the moment and his big brown eyes. Stupidly I expect to hear him say it back but he doesn't. It cuts me like a knife, why doesn't he say it back? He lied all the stuff with Jim does matter! I feel myself welling up as we stand looking at each other. Letting my hands slip from Peter's I turn to leave and begin to feel upset again when he doesn't reach for my hand and pull me back.

I take a deep breath as I click the door open, glancing round once more hoping he'll say he loves me but nothing, the smile has even faded from his lips. I swallow hard trying not to choke on my words "Goodbye Peter" I say failing and managing to choke the whole thing. I disappear through the doorway, closing it gently behind me.

The corridor is freezing, so much colder than it had been earlier. I wait just a minute hoping he'll come running out to me but still nothing. Oh Peter I said I was sorry why do you treat me like this? I decide it is time to give in, if I agree to whatever they want maybe I can save Peter and they'll return him home to his family. After all he will be missed back on Coronation Street. No one will miss me.

Walking down the corridor taking small steps and reaching the top of the stairs, I take a deep breath before beginning my decent. Reaching the bottom of the stairs I can hear their strong voices arguing in the living room area but I can't back out now. I take another deep breath and head in that direction. The door is ajar as I approach, so I gather up the courage to tap it lightly. I don't wait for the invite and make myself known in the doorway.

"Carla!" says Jim, surprise in his voice as they all turn in unison to face me. I suddenly feel so small and scared, why did I think this was a good idea. "What are you doing?" says Jim sounding angry.

"I… I have something to say," I offer quietly. They all stand quietly waiting to see what I say next.

"I'll do whatever you want, one condition though"

"Name your terms young lady" orders Injamin's brother, looking pleased.

"Let Peter go, please" I state politely

"Deal" says Injamin's brother as he claps his hands together in triumph.

He addresses Azarov dragging him away to the drinks cabinet as they begin to plan and scheme. Jim is quick to come over to me, standing close so he can whisper. "What are you doing Carla? He'll kill you or use you for god knows what!" He's says through gritted teeth, his voice full of frustration.

I find myself crying again as he places his hands firmly on my arms and pulls me into an embrace. "Please don't do this Carla," he begs but my mind is made up. "No one will miss me," I cry into his chest.

"I Will" says a strong voice from behind us. I pull away and look round. Peter is stood in the doorway, he stands tall and proud despite his condition. A gun firmly grasped in both hands and pointed ready to aim.

"I Will" he says slowly aiming the gun straight at us.


	68. Chapter 68

A bullet skims the side of my head, and another two shots follow. Swallowing hard I look round the room to where Azarov and Injamin's brother had been. Their bodies lay lifeless on the floor surrounded in a pool of their own blood and shattered glass. My breathing turns short and sharp as I slowly turn back to Peter. Shaking I look down to at my feet as I feel a cold wetness tickling the side. Blood is pooling around them, twisting my neck to look behind I see Jim, cold and lifeless upon the floor, blood pouring from a wound right in the centre of his forehead.

My head suddenly flies back in Peter's direction. I'm in shock, he's just gunned down three high-powered criminals in cold blood and I fear I'm next when I see him still stood aiming at me. His hands shake violently as they keep a tight grip on the gun. Peter has never ever given me reason to fear him but this moment changes all that, he's a loose cannon, as dangerous as all the others.

I watch him, waiting nervously for his next move. His chest rises and falls slowly as he stares me down. We stand like this in silence for what seems an eternity; the only things I can hear are Peter's erratic breathing and my thumping out of rhythm heartbeat. I know he knows I'm scared Peter has always had the ability to read me like a book, since that first time he'd seen me at the community centre.

"What are you going to do?" I ask, my voice broken and low as I address him.

I see it in slow motion as Peter closes his eyes and lowers his hands, the gun dropping to the floor with a thud seconds later. I feel a wash of relief and let out a few deep breaths. "You murdered them" I address Peter as tears well up in my eyes.

"They only would have killed you" he says coldly as he begins to make his way over to me where I stand frozen to the spot. Reaching me his hand reaches up and brushes my cheek. I push against his hand grateful for his touch. Eyes teary I look at him, his expression softens instantly and he takes me with surprise when he pulls me forward into him, holding me close against his chest.

"You know I love you Carla, I couldn't let them come between us" he expresses. Gesturing down with his head in Jim's direction he continues. "He didn't love you Car, he was using you" his voice soft as he speaks.

The words are enough to make me pull away, how does he know? He wasn't there he never felt what I felt. Jim cared about me I know he did. Shaking my head I slowly back away from him. I can't believe he's just said that when he's just gunned him down and we're standing in his blood.

The silence between us is awkward but soon interrupted as a member of the dinner staff from earlier has entered the room. We have only been made aware of his presence because he has dropped a tray of glasses he was carrying. The sight of his dead employer must have shocked him because he is now shouting in Russian and panicked.

"Carla get one of the cars" Peter orders. I think where might there be keys and remember Jim was the last person to drive me yesterday. Crouching down beside his cold body I take a deep breath as I delve into his trouser pocket and root around for the keys. His eyes glazed and open stare at me and feel like they're watching my every move. When I pull my hand out all I'm holding is a bunch of change, I throw it down beside me. Raising my eyes up I reach across him and search his other pocket. Bingo, the keys to the four by four.

When I turn round to show Peter and rise to my feet I see he's moved. He is standing with his back to me staring down the poor help. I glance over to where he'd dropped the gun and it's gone. "Peter" I call him hoping he'll turn and we can just go but he ignores me. I know he heard me. "Peter, I've got the keys, come on" I say firmly hoping to break him from his trance.

"Get the car, bring it to the front" He barks, not turning away and keeping eye contact with the poor man who I suspect has only seconds to live. I smile weakly over at the young man as I step over Jim's corpse and make my exit.

Once outside I meet the fresh morning air. We've been up all night, again! When I get home I'm going to sleep for an eternity to catch up on all I've lost. Well I should say _'IF' _I get home. I stop for just a minute on the front steps and look around. I remember Jim had pulled up at the front door and then handed the keys to the valet to take the car and he had sped off to the left.

I take my first few steps on the gravel in that direction, the little stones stabbing and cutting my bare soles but I must hurry that poor kids life must depend on it and I don't want his death on my conscience. I seem to have been walking forever before I reach what looks like a garage. I quicken my pace to reach the door but when I get there and try to pull it open it's locked. Typical!

Looking around I wonder if there is anything I can use to break the small window to one side and climb in but nothing. I throw Jim's keys up in the air and catch them in my palm. They glisten at me as they catch the early morning sun and I stare at them, then it clicks. Oh Carla you really are so stupid sometimes. Jim's keys! There must be a key on here to the garage.

Trying each one that looks fitting in the lock I find myself growing ever disappointed as none work but just then I find the one. It clicks the lock open with ease and I pull the large door outwards revealing the shiny black four by four. A huge grin comes across my face I'm happy with my achievement. Beeping the keys I unlock the car and it flashes all it's bright lights at me.

Hoping into the drivers seat I adjust it so I can at least reach the pedals. God Jim had long legs and the seat is so far back, I'm so small really in comparison. Chucking the key in the ignition I get the engine started. Seconds later it roars into life and I throw the car into drive, thundering out of the garage and onto the gravel. Racing the car round to the front it skids on the gravel as I slam on the breaks right out side the front door. Setting the car in park I press hard and firm on the horn as the engine rumbles. Peter comes running out the gun loosely held by his side and hurries round to the driver's side. He throws the door open "Get out, quick Carla" he barks, looking all around nervously. I struggle out of my seat and run round to the passenger side as Peter makes himself comfortable. I'm quick to put on my seat belt as Peter grips the gear and cranks it back into drive. Pressing the accelerator he revs the engine several times before releasing the hand break.

As the wheels spin ferociously gravel is thrown up from the drive and we go speeding off, heading back to the road. Taking a quick look in Peter's direction I see he is so focused on the road, hands firmly on the wheel and looking somewhat distant. We sit in silence as his speed continues to increase on the dead road, he flies around the bends and heads back towards the city. Well at least I hope that's where we're going because I'm sure Peter has no idea.

"Did you kill him?" I ask in a shaky voice, hoping that the poor young man who witnessed that three criminals had been murdered this morning wasn't dead himself.

Peter's reply is cold. "What if I did" he says, not breaking eye contact with the road.


	69. Chapter 69

We don't say a word after that. The four by four plunged into a deadly silence until Peter pulls into a small service stop. Just a little shop, no petrol pumps and looks dark and dingy both inside and out. Peter slams on the handbrake the second he stops the car and grabs the keys furiously from the ignition. He seems almost possessed as he sits still momentarily, hands resting on the wheel and eyes fixed on the little shop.

Suddenly his head flies in my direction, his eyes now firmly fixed on me, burning into me with a strong intent and it terrifies me. "Peter, what are we doing?" I ask my lips trembling as much as my voice when I speak. His teeth emerge from under his top lip as he grins. It really does scare me. I can't tell what he's thinking and really am not sure I want to.

Peter suddenly turns his back to me and clicks open the driver's door, as he jumps out the gravel beneath his feet gives a loud crunch. The door slams seconds later as I continue to stare out at him. What on earth is he doing? My eyes don't move or follow him as he disappears from my line of vision. I can feel my heart racing yet again and panic setting in as I begin to fear he is about to do something really stupid.

An icy blast of fresh air hits my back and whips through the fine silk material of the dressing gown I am still wearing. Taking me by surprise I don't even have time to turn and look as a hand claps around my mouth and the other pulls me from the car. My screams are muffled as my feet bang against the side of the car and then kick and struggle as they try to find the ground.

Once my balance has been restored I feel myself pinned firmly against a rapidly rising and falling chest of whom can be no other than Peter's. He firmly keeps me in place with the hand that is sort of suffocating me as he reaches down and slides his hand into his jeans pocket.

The next thing I feel is a blade at my throat. It makes me gasp and nips at my skin. What is Peter doing? I swear he's flipped, yep totally gone and lost it this time. "What are you doing?" I try to scream through his fingers but it just makes him tighten his grip and hold my head still as I struggle and thrash around trying to free myself from him. Is this his revenge? For what I did with Jim and all the times I have hurt him on this trip or is it more serious? My mind races with these thoughts and more as he turns taking me with him and we start uncomfortably shuffling towards the shop. I close my eyes not wanting to witness a thing and offering up a few silent prayers that he won't hurt me but if he does that it is quick and painless.

"Carla, baby I need you to work with me here" he whispers in my ear. "That ok?" he asks but leaves me little choice. If I don't co-operate in whatever his plan is I'm sure I'll wind up worse off. Attempting to nod in response I take in a deep breath through my nostrils and just want to scream and scream till I feel better and it settles my nerves. The knife is removed from my throat and I hear the uncomfortable clink of it against the metal door as Peter pushes it open.

A little bell rings to notify the shop attendant of our presence, however in our case it's more of a warning bell. The door is also quick to seal it's self shut and Peter's footsteps tap against the lino whereas my bare feet stick to it with each step and peel away as if they were Velcro. It's not long before we come to a halt and I sense the presence of a counter and a scared assistant who was monitoring it.

I can feel the heat of Peter's breath upon my earlobe again and he whispers in a voice so low I can barely hear it. "Stay calm baby" Stay calm, really is this some sort of joke! An eerie silence falls around us and all I can hear is three erratic heartbeats and breathing to match. The knife has found it's self back at my throat, this time digging in to my throat and I'm convinced Peter's unsteady hand has caused a cut and it is bleeding.

"Money!" yells Peter suddenly; making me jump and causing the knife to jump further down my throat, slicing a little at my skin as it does. I can't do it, can't stay calm and scream at the pain I'm feeling. Once Peter has whispered in my ear again to stay calm I find myself trying to keep focused and take deep breathes as I listen to the till ping open and the assistant fumble about in the draw to place what cash they have into a bag for Peter.

I have only two questions for him when he eventually lets go. Where did you get that knife? And why? But before I have too much time to think about them I am suddenly relieved of the knife and lunged forward with Peter as he sticks the knife into the assistant. They squeal and I can literally hear them being starved of oxygen as Peter drags me back away and the bell on the door rings out as he thrusts it open and pulls me back into the fresh air.

The soles of my bare feet scrape against the concrete gravel mix outside as he drags me backwards to the car. Before long I find myself thrown into the front seat and the ignition starting up so the engine comes alive. Peter cranks the gear into reverse and the wheels spin, spitting up gravel as we violently fly back. Hitting the breaks hard as he straightens up I am thrown forward into the dash, knocking my head and then find myself thrown back against my leather seat as he accelerates forward.

Feeling dizzy and sick I try to keep myself up right and my eyes closed. Peter has been silent since we got back in the car and it feels as though his road rage has the better of him because I'm sure we are speeding. My head rolls back and forth against the cold leather as I try to stay conscious and rid myself of this headache. It's not much use as I feel the car fly round such a sharp bend it forces my head towards the window, where it conveniently bangs against the glass.


	70. Chapter 70

Regaining consciousness I look out the window to see field upon field surrounds us, lightly dusted with snow. I turn my head to face Peter who is focusing hard on the road ahead, so focused in fact he is oblivious to the fact I'm now awake. For someone who only yesterday took a beating he is coping rather well and seems so alive, it must be the adrenalin. I turn back and stare out into the distance continuing to open up in front of us. The sky is littered with thick black clouds and is grey elsewhere; it really is a very bleak picture.

I let out a deep sigh and hope it'll be enough to get Peter's attention. I'm feeling slightly uneasy around him, although I wasn't looking back at that shop I know he hurt the young assistant and he had no reason, no motive. Something with him has changed and I just can't place my finger on the exact moment he turned but I just want back my Peter, he wasn't perfect but he wasn't this monster either!

"What's wrong?" he asks cutting the silence.

"Nothing" I lie as I try to fight back the tears I wish to shed over god knows what.

"Something's wrong Carla, come on tell me," he demands forcefully.

"You're scaring me," I mumble like a scared child as I shrink back down into my seat.

He laughs and then turns to glance at me, then back at the road then back to me and continues to do this for a few seconds as if saying 'what?' When my expression stays blank and he realises I'm serious and slams on the breaks bringing the car to a sudden halt in the road.

"What?" he asks. Leaving me feeling uneasy and not sure how to answer.

"Peter, I mean, well meant" I stutter. "I don't know what's happening, I've been confused and scared since all the drama on the boat baby and I just don't know who you are right now. Your moods are terrible and I think maybe we should just find the embassy and get home, back to reality, normal." I offer enthusiastically.

Silence falls between us and I feel anxious as I await his reaction. Come on Peter, you know I'm right I will him.

"Do you know nothing Carla?" he yells. "That is the stupidest thing I've heard, we are illegally in this country, no money no passports and you want to go to the embassy. They won't believe all this and we'll end up in prison or maybe even worse" he continues to shout at me. His eyes bulging from their sockets, temples pulsing and lips wet with salvia.

"I didn't think.." I stutter again and feel so small. He shakes his head as he pushes the gear into drive again and releases the brakes. Placing his foot on the accelerator he pushes hard and we go flying forward at speed.

"The plan is, we are going to get some more money, and we are going to get out of Russia, across Europe and I will get you home, but Carla, I need you to be supportive. I need you to do this with me" he explains.

It sounds ridiculous if you ask me and I hate to admit it but he is right, one hundred percent. I agree to the ludicrous plan, its not like I have a choice. I can see it now 'Connor and Barlow, European Bonnie and Clyde' just wait till back home they all see that. Then our plan to tell them all that we actually did have the quiet sailing holiday we had said will be ruined.

His hand reaches over and grabs mine, it's cold and clammy but I don't brush him away. In all honesty its nice to have him being affectionate. Our eyes meet awkwardly for just a second before he puts all his attention back into driving but his fingers gently stroke my knuckles as we drive on. "It'll be ok baby, you'll see," he says in a soft voice. It instantly calms me, I always trusted Peter before and at my most vulnerable so I'm sure I can again.

"I Love you," I say quietly.

"I love you too" is his response as he pulls into a little garage at the side of the road. Surely not again! I shoot him a disapproving look and he responds with a cheeky smile. "Need fuel baby" he jokes as he jumps out the car. I feel that instant relief again and smile back but somewhat nervously. Taking the fuel pump he fiddles about with the petrol cap and I watch as the numbers flash up on the screen and increase quickly.

Finally they stop and Peter is heading inside to pay the attendant. In the distance I can hear the faint cry of sirens but pay them very little attention. I watch Peter again praying that he won't do something stupid, I keep focused on him as I watch him approach the till and reach into his pocket. My heart stops for just a minute until I see him pull out a wad of the stolen cash. In the background I can still hear the sirens but have chosen to ignore all that may be happening around me.

Then I see what I was dreading, what I feared. Peter pulls a gun from his inside pocket. Where on earth did he acquire all this gear? He holds it up and aims it directly in the face of the cashier and I suddenly can't breathe. My eyes firmly fixed on that spot until a movement beside the car distracts me. My head staggers around the forecourt and all I can see are police cars, flashing blue lights giving it there all and police dotted all around the little building.

Every one of them has a gun, aimed in that direction but Peter hasn't noticed or registered their arrival. Sirens are still ringing out and can still be heard in the distance and still he stands focused on the cashier. He's really done it this time and now I really have something to be scared about. I'm an accomplice to murder after all I was there. A wave of sickness hits me and I feel it rush up my throat. There is nothing I can do to stop it. Doubling over in my seat I stare down at the carpet and almost choke on the vomit as it seeps through my lips.


	71. Chapter 71

A knock on the window startles me causing me to choke and cough terribly as I raise me head. I must look as white as a sheet as I come eye to eye with an officer, who does not look friendly at all! We have an awkward few seconds of staring before I hear the door click open. My heart races and I hope he doesn't just slap cuffs on me after all I'm riding in a stolen vehicle if they've checked it out.

"Excuse me, are you ok?" he asks his Russian accent strong.

Lost for words I just stare at him and shake violently before bringing up more vomit that just projects from my mouth all over him. Suddenly I feel weak and losing my balance I fall forward out of the car. The officers two strong hands catch me and push me back up onto my seat. My vision slightly blurred I look forward into the shop and realise the scene has changed. Peter is gone.

"Peter!" I cry out in a delirious state and reaching out to place both of my palms flat against the windscreen. The scene on the forecourt remains unchanged so Peter must still be inside, got wise to the legal presence and darted in the back or something. A tear escapes and roles down my cheek as I begin to think about how serious this situation Peter has created is.

"You know him?" asks the officer who is still hovering beside me in a stern voice and pointing into the shop.

Moment of truth time, do I deny it and pretend I'm crying after a customer in the shop or do I admit I do and convict myself also. Decisions decisions. I lick my lips nervously before turning my attention to the officer and nodding.

"Is he dangerous miss?" he asks, his tone still serious.

"No" I mumble pathetically but I'm not sure I believe that. What I have seen him do lately I don't know what he is capable of. Suddenly I feel the clap of a cold metal ring around my wrist, glancing down I see the shiny handcuff starring up at me and begin to panic. Throwing a terrified look at the officer I want to kick and scream and no sooner than he starts removing me from the car I do.

"Peter! Peter!" I scream at the top of my lungs as they force me into the back of a police car. They're not gentle with me at all and I feel every bit of my body ache as I'm pushed around and settled into the back seat. I continue to scream and cry out for Peter the whole journey. I'm as bad as an infant who just wants their mummy.

Upon arrival at the station a tall, rough looking male officer drags me from the backseat by my hair and pulls me inside to the reception area where he throws me into the little metal bench. The rage I'm beginning to feel against them is starting to go beyond my control and when he takes an in charge stance before me I just lose my temper.

"Calm down" he barks in my face, droplets of his saliva landing upon my lips and chin.

Pursing my lips I just wish my hands were free, I'd lurch myself forward and give him what for but I unfortunately I do not have that luxury so I spit at him like a camel in order to make myself heard. I didn't expect his reaction though he has lifted his hand and slapped my hard across my cheek with his knuckles. It stings and I find myself shocked, this would never happen back home!

He walks off in disgust back to the reception desk and furiously shouts something in Russian. Seconds later a new officer comes to me and pulls me up off my seat and down a dull corridor. Obviously holding cells and it must be a busy night because most of them are occupied. Coming to a halt outside one for the doors the officer pulls it open and the inside is exposed. It's a shell, no bed, no luxuries and what looks like a toilet in the corner. He throws me inside still cuffed and I stumble and hit the floor.

This will be me then for the next god knows how long; surely they should have removed the cuffs I mean how on earth am I meant to get up? I lie uncomfortably on the floor and wait; it's cold damp and unpleasant but it won't keep me silent. I start again with my screaming for Peter; they will hear me. They will let me out. Peter and I are the victims in all this and I will make them listen.

I'm not lying there long before the heavy metal door scrapes the floor as it is pulled open. Behind me I hear loud voices speaking in Russian. They pull me up by the bar on my cuffs and I struggle to find my balance as they drag me from the cell. They take me further down the little corridor and into another room where I find myself thrown uncomfortably into a plastic chair that is bolted to the concrete floor with a table placed in front.

A tall dark and handsome officer places himself in the comfier looking chair opposite and gives me a smile as his eyes twinkle in the light. He doesn't look like a very nice man and I'm certain he isn't going to be fair but he's just the kind of bad boy I would fall for. Cracking his knuckles he reaches out and places his hands on the table in front of him.

"So Ms Connor" he says with a smirk. It leaves me shocked! How does he know my name? I've not told him and it's not like I'm carrying ID. I stay silent I know my rights and I will not answer any of his questions, but I will ask some of my own. "Mr Barlow how are you two known?" he asks. I'm surprised, his English is better than I expected but perhaps he's been trained.

"Where is Peter?" I ask coldly ignoring his question as I had planned. There will be no distracting me with his smouldering good looks and….

He huffs and I can tell my attitude has instantly annoyed him. "Mr Barlow, Ms Connor. How do you know each other?" he asks again in a firm tone. I chuckle at his question and stare back without blinking. "Where is Peter?" I ask again making each word as clear and possible and in a serious tone so he knows I mean business. This is my game and we are going to play by my rules!


	72. Chapter 72

Silence lingers in the room as we stay in stand off mode. The officer in the corner obviously there as back up is becoming increasingly agitated as he starts shuffling on the spot.

"Ms Connor, please co-operate" he asks nicely before turning to take a look at his colleague still fidgeting in the corner and I can tell its beginning to get on his nerves. When he turns back to me he meets my blank expression, I refuse to answer a thing until they tell me where Peter is. Leaning back in his chair he folds his arms across his chest and exhales deeply.

The small room is once again silent and I continue to stare at him staring at me and feel confident my plan is working. He appears to be playing good cop and I think I can work this to my advantage if I just focus and keep a clear head. I start thinking through my plan in my head, step by step when we are interrupted.

An officer steps just in the doorway and apologises for interrupting but the idle officer who was standing in on our interview session is soon following his colleague out of the door and we are left alone. Just me and the extremely good looking officer, detective, whatever he is. I find myself distracted with wayward thoughts as we continue to sit in silence.

After an extremely long pause his chair creaks uncomfortably when he leans forward and claps his hands together as he rests his elbows on the table. He smiles at me, a devilish grin and I swear it is melting me from the inside, but I keep my lips pressed tight so as not to talk. This won't work on me I will not crack, two can play this game, hell I invented it. I love playing it reminds me of all those times with Liam, the tension, the flirting and the not knowing what would happen from one minute to the next.

"Are you going to talk?" he asks with a chuckle and flashes a little of his perfectly white teeth from under his top lip. His dark eyes shine under the intense light of the interview room and burn into mine, which I'm pretty sure are glistening back in a playful way. A wave of excitement hits me and flows through my veins as I feel the tension in the room increase. When I eventually shake my head in a teasing manner as way of reply to his question his playful expression hardens and he becomes serious making me giggle.

The legs of his chair scrape against the floor with an ear-piercing screech as he pushes it back and rises. He walks around the table to me and places a hand under my chin. With a flick of his wrist he pushes it upward and our eyes meet, a smile now back on his face, the playful grin. My heart rate begins to increase but it's not fear, it's something more like anxiousness or excitement.

I feel his hand hovering down the length of my body and I'm aching for him to touch me but he doesn't. Reaching my cuffs he pulls at the bar holding them together and yanks me up out of my seat. He pulls in so close our lips are almost touching and I can't help but smile. Giving a chuckle he teases me just as Jim had the first time we'd felt the vibe between us.

He holds me steady and then suddenly pushes me back with force into the breezeblock wall. Taking a firm grip on my neck, he pushes me hard against the wall so my head thuds against it before bouncing forward. His grip is strong and firm as he holds me in place and raises my feet from the floor. I kick gently in protest until I realise I'm struggling to breathe and he is crushing my windpipe. That devilish grin remains in place upon his face as he watches me suffer.

The more I struggle the harder he presses, I can feel all the air being sucked from my lungs and find myself beginning to choke. I've lost control of the situation completely and am going to have to beg him to let me go. "Please" I cry breathlessly.

"Oh Ms Connor, I think you can do better than that!" he teases.

I feel myself running out of oxygen, I need to think fast but not incriminate Peter or myself in the process, we are just victims. "Please" I try again as water streams from my eyes and down my cheeks as part of my body's reaction to the choking.

"How do you know Peter Barlow?" he asks slowly in a cold, calm voice.

Ok no choice left I am going to have to answer this question. The officer pushes down on my throat one more time and I am powerless to fight him due to my restraints. "Boyfriend" I struggle to say with some of what feels like my last breaths. He drops me no sooner have I spoken, my body sliding down the cold wall and heaping at his feet as I desperately try to regain my breath. I feel light-headed and dizzy where my body has been starved of oxygen.

His shoes shuffle against the floor as he turns and then tap as he walks away, just a few steps and turns back around. I look up in time to see him bend down and crouch before me. His top lip curls as he smirks at me and then he speaks. "We are making progress"

He shuffles forward and stops closer to me. Almost as close as before and I can feel a little spark. What is it that attracts me to these bad boys? Again he goes for my throat but gently this time, using his hand as a support to keep my head up so eye contact won't be broken. With his spare hand he flicks back his jacket and pulls from a holster a gun. Holding it up he examines it, twisting and turning it in the light and then looks back at me. I know he can see the sudden fear I'm feeling. Laws out here a different to back home and I'm unsure of how and whether he can use his weapon on me.

"What do you want?" I ask bravely hoping he will play fair with me if I start co-operating as he had wished.

"What do you know?" he asks with a chuckle. I'm so confused. Know about what?

"Nothing" I add innocently but have a feeling it is going to land me in deeper hot water.

He grabs the cuffs again by the bar and starts dragging me across the floor towards the door. He doesn't stop to look outside, he just grabs the door and pulls it open with such force it smacks against the wall.

My feet and legs catch on the floor regularly as he pulls me back down the corridor with the cells to reception. The gun dangles loosely in his hand the whole time and nobody even tries to stop him. Outside another day has begun and the sun has risen, but the air is bitter and cold. Heading in the direction of a long line of shiny black cars he stops at the back door of one and lets go of me. I fall to the floor ungracefully, it is damp and cold with small puddles and I watch as he pulls the door open.

I expect him to reach back down and grab me by the cuffs but he doesn't, instead he grabs a chunk of my hair and lifts me by it. Painfully it pulls on my roots as he throws me into the back seat and then slips in beside me. Once in he straightens me up so I am resting back against the seat of the car.

"Where are you taking me?" I spit but he does not reply. In Russian he speaks to the driver who pulls away slowly from the parking space and then starts to accelerate once we have left the car park. "Where is Peter?" I spit wanting an answer to at least one of my questions. Something in this situation isn't right, I just know it, call it intuition.

"You'll see him soon enough. If you behave" he teases and lifts the gun up high. Suddenly it cracks across my face and it's contact is the last thing I remember before the driver takes a sharp turn and I fly into the window with force hitting my head against the glass.


	73. Chapter 73

I wake with sudden disturbance as I'm pulled from the back seat of the car and out into a derelict looking factory. Broken windows line the sides and the walls are a mixture of concrete and peeling paint. I only have seconds to look at it before the officer starts dragging me off round the corner. There is no way this is official police quarters and the thought terrifies me. I'm at the mercy of a stranger who at this moment in time could be anyone and I suspect this is true because I don't think he is who he said he was.

He pushes me up a few concrete steps and then stops to reach around me and heave open a corrugated metal door. It squeals and scrapes the concrete as it wobbles open and the noise echo around the shell of the abandoned factory. He is quick to push me inside and the whole thing is empty, my eyes scan the open plan layout until they stop on a heaped man in the corner.

I recognise him instantly, it's Peter, slumped in the corner with his head resting on the wall. "Peter!" I call unable to stop myself. My voice echo's around the room with sadness but it does not stir Peter. With a hard shove of his hand the officer pushes me forward and I stumble almost losing my balance and crashing to the floor but luckily I manage to hold my stance.

"Walk" I hear his deep voice boom.

I hesitate not sure if I want to go over to Peter. I know it's fear, fear of the unknown and whether or not Peter is still alive in that corner.

"Walk" he orders.

I'm not quick to move in fact I stay cemented to the spot until I feel his presence behind me. His hand reaches round and scoops back my hair, exposing my skin to his warm breath and I can feel how close his lips are. His breath travels up my neck slowly till he stops at my ear, his lips resting gently at the edge.

My eyes widen suddenly as I feel the gun suddenly jabbed in my back. "Walk" he whispers and his voice and tone sends shivers down my spine. I don't have much of a choice, I don't know if it's actually loaded and or whether this man would use it.

I take a few steps forward, taking great care not to trip or stumble as I do. I manage to make it all the way to Peter before he pulls me back. "Peter" I say in a soft gentle voice hoping this time it will disturb him, but he still sits lifeless.

He takes firm grip of my shoulders and spins me round to look at him and I examine him closely, he looks pleased with himself.

"What have you done to him?" I say angrily as my eyes burn into his.

He gives a chuckle and then exhales a deep breath, but no words are spilt from his lips. "What have you done to him?" I scream but the officer finds it amusing and carries on chuckling. Getting frustrated I start fidgeting and wobble, loosing my balance and falling backwards narrowly missing Peter. I hit the concrete floor with a thump and just about manage to keep myself upright.

His knees give an uncomfortable crack as he bends down in front of me and continues with his smirking. I scowl at him, wanting to kick off but still restrained am unable. "He will be ok Ms Connor, if you behave" he teases as he grabs my cheeks and forces me to look up at him.

"Who are you?" I ask in a snotty voice, completely confused by this whole situation.

"Your worst nightmare" he declares as my eyes widen with fright. Who and what does he know?

Peter begins coughing beside me and my eyes quickly dart round to look at him. He is getting redder with every cough and I believe is choking. His eyes begin flickering as he stirs from his slumber and look up. I greet him with a smile, well the best I can manage anyway.

"Carla?" he asks in a confused manner. I blink to try and fight back my tears but it's no use, they come flowing thick and fast as I stare at him, his bruising from the other day is faint but still visible. A new wound however has appeared at the side of his head, just below his hairline. Congealed blood sits on the wound and it looks nasty.

"Peter, are you okay?" I cry, sniffling and inhaling short sharp breathes.

"What's happening baby?" he asks me, and I almost laugh at him wondering how he cannot figure it out.

"Mr Barlow" says the officer taking Peter's attention. "Feeling ok?" he asks sadistically.

"Carla who's he?" Asks Peter as he turns back to look at me.

How do I answer his question, I have no idea who he is. He has never given me his name and I never got an answer when I asked so I can't really answer Peter but I wouldn't even have chance as it turns out because the officer answers it himself.

"As I explained to your little _'girlfriend' _here Mr Barlow, I am your worst nightmare! For you see I know what you to did and those people were my friends so I owe it to them to see you two get what's coming to you" he explains, that sadistic tone ever present in his voice.

This is what I feared, I knew we were in way over our heads the second I found out what was going on onboard that boat. We escaped before I'm sure we can do it again but how? This man before us is a bent copper and we are going to struggle to get away.

"Bastard!" yells Peter suddenly seeming stronger than he did a few moments ago.

The officer reaches out for me and grabs me by my hair again, what is their problem! God it hurts as he pulls me across the empty warehouse space and throws me up against a wall the other side. Pushing himself up against me to secure me in place and then kissing me firmly on the cheek. Damn these foreigners they have such a way of using affection. When he's finished he pulls away and puts his hands firmly against the wall either side of my head.

"Now Ms Connor… Azarov was a good friend of mine and your boyfriend over there killed him. Now he had clients and these clients still need satisfying so if you and the man over their want to get home safely you will do as your told!"

He pauses for a minute as I register the information.

"You understand me Carla?" he snarls and taking grip of my face again forces me to nod.

"Good Girl" he says with a smirk.


	74. Chapter 74

When he lets go of me I'm left shaking violently. Ever since the attack with Frank I have been uneasy and unsure of all men, especially those that feel the need to invade my personal space without invitation. He takes a step back and then places his hands around my arms and holds me at arms length. That devilish smile creeps back onto his face as he examines me from head to toe. Looking at my bare battered feet he starts shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

"Oi what's funny?" I hear Peter shout in a somewhat broken voice from his corner on the opposite side of the floor.

"You're pathetic excuse for a girlfriend" he replies snidely.

"You what?" says Peter clearly offend by the comment.

I keep my head down and don't even attempt to sneak a peek as he lets go of me and I hear his shoes tap away across the concrete floor. Peter gives a groan and I hear him cough as he is slammed into the wall. When he cries out in agony through gritted teeth my head flies up and over in his direction too see him being held against the wall by only the pressure of the officer's arm.

His head flies round and stares at me when I gasp louder than I expected to and his eyes sparkle with excitement.

My eyes can only reflect how worried and scared I am now. He turns back to Peter and whispers something in his ear.

"You sick Bastard!" yells Peter, his rage slowly building towards our new acquaintance.

Pulling away from Peter he continues with the evil cackle and looks back across the room to me. Peter takes him by surprise when he reaches out and pushes him down to the ground. Awkwardly and in pain he runs to me and I can't stop the tears and flood of emotion as he approaches me with his arms open wide, ready to sweep me up in a loving embrace.

His hands stroke my hair as he holds me close to his chest for a few minutes, before pulling me back and holding my face in his hands and brushing my tears away with his thumbs. I sniffle as I look at him and he looks so worn out bless him, but at least he seems to have restored himself back to the Peter I know and love.

"Well, isn't this cosy" says the officer sarcastically as he approaches us. Peter instinctively covers me, my very own human shield protecting me as he turns to face the officer.

"She's pretty though" he acknowledges as he reaches over Peter's shoulder for my face and strokes my cheek with two fingers.

"What do you want?" Peter demands.

He's amazing when he acts with authority, protective and strong and extremely loyal. Peter keeps a firm stance before me as he awaits an answer to his question.

"Well Mr Barlow, as I explained to Carla here, Azarov has some clients with unfinished business and you see me, being a man of the law really can't get involved but you, you have debts and what better way to pay them!" he explains grabbing Peter's wrist and throwing him down to the floor.

He stands over him and crouches down to address him further. "Understand me?" he asks as he reproduces his gun and holds it to Peter's temple. I offer up a silent prayer that he'll just agree and not try to argue. Peter agrees with a yes through gritted teeth, but his eyes are alight with rage and I know all the anger he is feeling is raging through his veins and it's taking all the strength and will power he has for him to hold himself back.

The officer rises from him and turns all his attention back to me. "So Pretty" he says reaching to cup my cheek, but I jerk my head away. "Don't play games with me" he says as he leans in close "I know you want me," he whispers, but it's loud enough for Peter to hear.

"Leave her alone" he warns, from the ground where he is starting to pull himself up.

"Why what you going to do about it?" he teases turning and rummaging in his pocket as he moves around me and out of sight. So far in fact I cannot see him in my peripheral vision but I sense him right behind me. Peter also has his back to us where he has scooped himself up from the concrete.

"Oh you'll see" Peter warns further as he starts to turn, but words fail him when he sees me.

The officer has grabbed me from behind and has the knife placed firmly against my throat, so close in fact I can feel it nipping at my skin. Odd tears trickle down my cheeks as I fear the worst, how on earth do we end up in these situations. I thought we were finally free of bad guys, jobs, errands and playing their sick little games but I should have known that was too good to be true.

"Speechless are we?" teases the officer. "Now Mr Barlow, this is how this works. Carla here is going to come with me. You, you are going to wait here for some of my men and they will get you everything you need. When and if you do this job properly I might let you have this gorgeous woman back!"

"No deal, Carla comes with me," Peter yells back. It doesn't help the situation, I feel the knife pushed deeper into my skin and flinch at the pain. "Don't hurt her!" yells Peter seconds later.

"Then co-operate Mr Barlow, because if you don't she'll be of no loss to me!" he threatens.

Peter stops to think about his reply, my life rests entirely in his hands and on his ego. Peter is stubborn and I just hope he won't try to win this battle because the only blood likely to be spilt is mine and this man is serious.

"Do we have a deal Mr Barlow!" he yells as he digs the knife in harder yet again and I feel it cut my skin this time and a cold trickle of blood drip down my throat.

"Yes" Peter mumbles embarrassed

"I didn't hear that" he continues to tease and keeping the knife firmly rested upon my windpipe and fresh cut.

"Yes, just don't hurt Carla" he yells back.

The officer begins to pull me away and when we reach the door he stops for just a minute. I look across at Peter through teary eyes and wish I wasn't restrained; I would kick and fight my way free, just to get back over to him and have him hold me knowing I can hold him back and we'd be safe together.

"I Love you Carla!" he shouts and I want to reply but am too scared to move. His words are still echoing around the empty shell of the building when the driver snatches me away from the doorway and from the arms of the officer. I hear Peter shout after me his voice laden with fear. "Carla!"

He bundles me into the backseat of the car slamming the door shut in my face. On the opposite side the back door is opened and the officer slides in beside. Once we are both seated the driver jumps in and starts the engine. I rest my head on the cold glass of the window and see my reflection in the tinted glass. Tears start to fall as I think about Peter, just abandoned back there in an unfamiliar place, waiting for the unknown. I don't even know if I'll see him again this time and the thought pains me terribly. "I Love you too" I whisper looking as far back as my eyes will allow with my palm placed firmly against the glass as the building fades into distance.


	75. Chapter 75

The driver turns into a dark ally that leads from a busy main street in a town centre. It's damp and dingy where it has been raining. The rain started not long after we had left Peter, the sky had come over all dark and the heavens had opened. It was like a scene from a movie and so symbolic to the whole situation.

The car splashes through the puddles on the uneven back street as the car passes with more speed than I care for. It stops abruptly with a firm application of the brakes outside a tall dingy looking apartment block. Some windows on certain levels are broken and others different shades in colour or just blacked out. I stare at my reflection in the car window as they hurry about their business. Tearstains decorate my cheeks and I watch as fresh tears continue to fall and roll gently over the tracks of their predecessors.

I'm concentrating so hard on my reflection that when they open my door I almost fall out face first into the dirty looking puddle we appear to be parked in. But thankfully the officer was there to catch me and help me from the car because I would have been unable to stop myself. I give a smile as a gesture of thanks but refuse to say it; we haven't spoken a word since he dragged me away from Peter.

He takes a firm grip on my arm and leads me up to the door and presses a buzzer marked apartment thirteen. The voice comes through grainy asking who it is and the officer gives a name of Dubrovsky and is instantly buzzed in. He throws me through the doorway and is quick to hurry up the stairs to level five where apartment thirteen sits directly at the top of the stairs. Number thirteen, the gold letters shine at me and I can't help but think unlucky for some and I suspect for me too.

The door sits ajar as we approach it and Dubrovsky pushes it back slowly revealing an almost empty apartment. It is scarcely furnished and I take note of what's there as I'm guided inside. To my left is a small kitchenette with stained white cupboards that are barely held on at the hinges, a sink full of dishes and a filthy looking old style cooker. In front on them sits a rickety looking metal dining table and chairs warped from years of use. Scanning the rest of the little apartment I notice it has only one window and the thin net curtain is blowing gently with the breeze and tattered with holes. Through the material I see the pane of glass is one of the broken ones. The apartment is freezing cold so that will explain the reason behind that.

Focusing to my right I notice that there is damp on the walls and the paper is peeling terribly. A doorway sits open and it looks as though it leads to a small bathroom, but doesn't look pleasant at all! Last of all I notice a mattress with no sheets and only a worn pillow lying on the floor in the far corner, just to one side of the window. It doesn't look very inviting and is certainly not the five star luxuries I have been treated too so far.

The apartment appears to be empty until we a graced with the pleasure of another suited man, his face adorned with black sunglasses as though he thinks he's one of the men in black. "Dubrovsky" he says in welcome with a jolly voice and they shake hands firmly. Leaving me standing just inside the doorway the men go off to one side and start discussing business between themselves. I wait awkwardly knowing I'm their topic and just hope this is not my known resident until further notice because it is disgusting.

They finish chuckling and Dubrovsky starts biding farewell to the other guy and seeing him out. Once he is gone he locks and bolts the door and then comes back to me, standing right in front of me and forcing me to look at him. "Now Carla if you promise to be a good girl, I'll take these off," he says in a patronising tone as he reaches down and takes a grip on the handcuffs. I nod in agreement, desperate to be free of my restraint. He yanks me forward making the cuffs dig painfully into my wrists and then lifts my wrists so the cuffs sit before my eyes. He fishes in his pocket and produces a bunch of keys, sorting them he stops at a small silver one and smiles at me as he slips it into the lock.

There is a little click as the cuffs unlock and relieve my wrists of their presence, and I can't help but feel a little excitement at the fact I'm free. Dubrovsky places the cuffs in his back pocket and then takes me completely by surprise when he pulls me close. Wrapping an arm around my back to hold me in place and his other travels down the front of the flimsy satin robe I am still wearing. He takes a grip of the tied belt keeping it closed and slips his fingers around it and unties it. My whole body tense and I'm frightened, I should try to fight but seem to be powerless.

The robe falls open and exposes me to him, grabbing it with my shaking hands I attempt to cover myself back up but he bats my hands aside and moves his free hand to my left shoulder and pushes the silk material off. It slides easily and he is quick to move to the other to repeat the action so the robe sits at my waist, kept there only by his arm and leaves me naked before him.

I feel myself going into a state of panic as he leans down and kisses my neck. My chest constricts and I struggle to breathe. I shake my head as I begin to hyperventilate and push him away firmly. He lets go and the robe floats to the floor. Standing back he smiles appreciatively and nods with satisfaction as he begins to unbutton his shirt and shake it from his shoulders.

Having regained a steady rate with my breathing he returns to me and I feel the process starting all over again. "Please don't," I beg in a timid voice but he doesn't back off. "Don't," I shout firmly as he leans down to kiss my neck again but he does not take my warning. As he trails kisses down my neck and closer to my chest fear overcomes me. "Don't!" I scream and push him away with a new found strength I wish I'd had when Frank had attacked me.

He stumbles back and then tries to reach out me but I wave my arms at him in an attempt to keep him away but still he pushes forward. I can't control myself and lash out hitting him and splitting his lip. Blood pours from it but he doesn't seem bothered about the blow, he has become focused, focused on me. He approaches me anger flashing in his eyes and with one hand he grabs both my wrists and squeezes them together until it causes me unbearable pain and I cry out for him to stop.

Reaching into his back pocket he reproduces the handcuffs and with a sadistic grin pulls me up close to him. He spins me round so my back is then up against him and whispers through gritted teeth into my ear. "I told you to behave" The cold metal of the cuff is reunited with the skin on my wrists as he secures my hands behind my back. The way my arms have twisted leaves me feeling nothing but pain in my new position. He grips the bar on the cuffs and drags me backwards and I can feel the cold air upon my skin, which is slowly becoming covered in goose pimples.

Dubrovsky throws me down with force onto the dirty worn mattress and I don't even bounce as I fall because the springs are so worn. I try my best to curl up as small as I can to protect myself but struggle to get comfortable. He walks away and leans down to pick up his shirt and jacket from the floor. He is quick to redress himself and then my eyes follow him as he walks over to collect my robe. Coming back to me he places it over my naked body to act as a blanket and kisses me on the forehead.

"Sorry Carla" he says, but I know it is not an apology and it means nothing.

Going over to the small kitchenette he starts to raid through the drawers until he finds what he is looking for. Making his way back to me he holds a role of duct tape in one hand. Crouching down at my side and pulling a strip of the tape free he smacks it across my mouth. He is sure to press it down firmly and then rises and hovers over me for just a few minutes before he makes his exit.

"Be a good girl now Carla and no one will get hurt!" he says with a cackle as he closes the door.


	76. Chapter 76

I've been shivering and crying for hours now lying on the lumpy mattress and soaking the dirty pillow on which I've rested my head. Sirens cry out in the streets and distance, odd gunshots or cars back firing can be heard and raised voices shouting at each other in Russian on the streets below. I feel so alone and can't help but wondering how Peter is feeling and where he could be.

My eyes open and close gently with every tear shed as all scenarios start running through my head and my imagination makes them ten times worse. I know the sort of jobs these men get people to carry out especially after my recent trip to Thailand. I feel so guilty because we are only in this situation because Peter loves me so much he wouldn't let me surrender to Azarov and Jim but he should have because he would have been home safe with his family, with Simon.

I find my thoughts suddenly interrupted as I hear footsteps and muffled voices just outside the door. I lift my head a little and strain to hear if any of the conversation is comprehensible but it is all in Russian from what I can hear. I drop my head and close my eyes when I hear scratching at the lock on the door and the turning of a key. Pretending to sleep I listen intently to the tapping as someone, I suspect Dubrovsky makes his way over to me.

"She been any trouble?" he snaps obviously talking to another presence in the room.

"No Sir" says the voice.

He places a hand over my forehead and it lingers there as the silence falls on the apartment. "She ok Sir?" asks the unfamiliar voice.

"Yes" he answers peeling his hand away.

I am only too aware that my body is still shivering and more violently than it did earlier, I'm literally frozen! I feel the urge to cough and can't stop myself and then start sneezing. It causes my eyes to fly open in shock as I did not expect it and there he is staring down at me, eyes wide. I feel the need to retreat away from him further across the mattress but rolling onto my hands realise I can't even roll myself over.

"Glad you're awake Carla I have something to show you!" he says excitedly.

I have no idea what to expect but if he seems pleased about it I'm guessing it is not good news for me. He is quick to get up and goes over to a small television set just to one side of the kitchenette. He is out of my sight but I hear him turn it on and snippets of voices as he flicks through the channels. He is soon back at my side and has that grin back on his face, the devilish sadistic one all these bad boys seem to use.

In his hand he holds the key to the handcuffs and he twists it before my eyes, pretending to examine it in an attempt to tease me. Suddenly he reaches across me and fumbling behind my back he attempts to unlock and remove the cuffs. It is again a relief to be free of them and I can't wait to pull myself up from the mattress as he places the cuffs firmly back in his back pocket.

Taking my hand he helps me get up and slip my robe back on. He then leads me over to the little worn table and pulls out a chair for me to sit on. The metal is freezing cold against my legs and sends a shiver through me as it makes contact. He stands behind me with a hand firmly placed on my shoulders and tells me to watch the television.

On the channel is the news, broadcast in Russian with English subtitles. I stare at it blankly not sure exactly what I'm supposed to be watching for. The reader appears to be reporting on a local parade that has taken place today and showing clips of everyone dancing and singing as they enjoy the festivities. Its over all too quickly and a flash of a logo appears before returning to the studio where the presenter now sits and looks more serious as he starts about his next report.

The subtitles flash across the bottom of the screen so quickly I can barely comprehend them before they are gone. I watch closely as they cut to a live feed with a reporter at none other than Belgorod International Airport. In the subtitles I read that they are cutting to footage captured earlier on CCTV.

The picture is grainy and shows the crowds passing through the centre of the airport. I continue to watch looking for something of meaning and read the quick flashing subtitles. I then see Peter striding across and through the crowd before it flicks to a new CCTV image at security where an officer stops him. My eyes are glued to the screen, I don't even blink as I watch the events unfold in front of me.

You can see the moment where Peter has started to panic. Security begins patting him down when he reaches inside his pocket and draws a gun. The image is clearer as Peter puts the gun to the officer's head and as the poor man straightens up Peter pulls the trigger. It all happens so fast an in a flash he is gone. The CCTV image fades and returns to the reporter at the airport. A grainy picture of Peter they have taken from the footage appears beside her and something written in Russian appears below.

"What does that say?" I ask blankly as they cut back to the newsroom and start reporting on a new story but am met by silence.

"What did that say?" I demand turning and looking him square in the eye and trying to fight back the tears. He just laughs at me and I can feel the anger building inside me. It's a fire of rage burning that I have not felt for years. Leaping from my chair I lurch forward, banging my fists against his chest and screaming as the tears begin to fall. Dubrovsky doesn't tolerate my behaviour for long before he grabs both my wrists and holds me back. He pushes me backwards until I hit the wall with a thump and he holds me there although I try to resist.

He lets go of one of my wrists and his hand moves quickly to take a firm grip on my throat. I stop squirming instantly; his eyes burn into me with a deep dark coldness as he slowly tightens his grip so I am left just starting to struggle to breathe.

"You want to save him?" he says in a teasing voice.

I nod as my eyes water and my throat runs dry. He smiles and relaxes his hand allowing me to breathe again and then leans in to whisper in my ear. "Well, lets go then"

Dubrovsky removes his hand from my throat and pulls me away by my hand. We fly from the apartment and down the stairs heading out into the street. My feet splash through the puddles as he drags me to a nearby car and upon reaching it pushes me into the passenger side. I watch as he runs round to the driver's side and pulls open the door to jump in.

Suddenly he has keys and he starts the engine up, pressing the accelerator he revs the engine violently before releasing the handbrake that sends us speeding off. The car skids and screeches on the wet ground below as Dubrovsky drives me out onto the main road and the unknown but I need to do whatever he asks if it will save Peter.


	77. Chapter 77

The car pulls up and as the headlights illuminate the surroundings I see we are outside the abandoned warehouse, where we were earlier and I focus all my attention on Dubrovsky as I stare at him with a look that says 'Why are we here?' He turns off the engine and we would be sat in silence if outside it weren't pouring again with rain. He sits momentarily staring into space in the driver's seat. His eyes transfixed on nothing but his mind obviously racing.

Suddenly he removes himself from the car and runs round to the passenger side and to me. He is soaked through by the time he opens the passenger door and as he leans into me I watch as drops of rain drip from his hair and narrowly miss me. His wet hand clamps around my wrist and he guides me from the car.

Stepping out my foot lands in a puddle causing it to splash all up his trouser leg. At this his whole demeanour changes and he becomes rougher in his actions. Once he has pulled me from my seat he is quick to slam the door and strides back round to the doorway of the warehouse. Opening it with force it almost flies from its loose hinges and he drags me inside.

The rain thunders against the roof of the warehouse making a terrible racket and is accompanied by a loud rumble of thunder and a crackle of lightening. It makes me jump at first as we stand in the dark space, guided only by the light of a torch Dubrovsky is holding as he searches the wall for a light switch. The light flickers on and illuminates the room, earlier it was empty but now there are a few boxes lying idly in the centre.

"Come" he demands taking my hand and pulling me to the mystery packages.

He lifts them and starts opening them as I stand watching, shivering in my drenched satin robe and water dripping from the ends of my soaked hair. Dubrovsky has ripped the paper from them all but it doesn't reveal anything of significance to me. A phone rings from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and he grabs it quickly, answering it and turning his back on me as he begins his conversation.

I understand bits of the conversation clearly but the rest appears to be in code. I wait nervously for him to finish but find myself distracted somewhat by the flickering light and the storm brewing outside. The light begins to flicker more intensely crackling and buzzing as it starts to fade in and out. I watch as Dubrovsky finishes his call and then a loud crackle of lightening and a heavy rumble of thunder sound out overhead.

We are plunged into darkness as the light blows out and we can hear the shattering of glass as it tinkles as the pieces hit the concrete floor. "Don't move!" shouts Dubrovsky. He is right, I shouldn't move, I can't see and if my bare foot catches on a piece of broken glass I am going to be unable to help Peter but, this could be my only chance to get away.

With my heart racing I make a quick decision, a decision to run but I must be quick because I can hear Dubrovsky down on the floor searching frantically for the torch he had and wincing as he catches his fingers on the splinters of glass. I turn and tiptoe back in the direction we had walked. It is pitch black apart from a small glowing dot of red light I assume is above the door and I pray I'm right.

"Carla I can hear you moving" I hear his voice warn through the darkness but it doesn't stop me. I feel a breeze of cooler air as I reach the edge of the building and put my hands out in front of me to reach for the wall and use it for a guide. For some reason I keep glancing over my shoulder but it is pointless because I can see nothing. My fingertips eventually feel the cold breezeblocks and I push my palms flat against it. I look up and to my right and then my left, seeing the little red light not far I begin stepping in that direction being sure to keep close to the wall.

I can hear my erratic breathing and see my breath before me as its warmth mixes with the cold night air. I feel a sense of achievement as I come within reaching distance of the door but am frozen when I hear footsteps approaching from behind and then find the subject in the spotlight as the torch shines on me.

I stare at the wall as my shadow is joined by Dubrovsky's. I tense instantly at his touch when he places a hand on my arm. He squeezes it digging his fingers in so painfully I could just cry out for him to stop. Dubrovsky flips me and pushes me back up against the wall I'm fixed before him and he lifts the torch shining it directly into my eyes as he keeps me pinned up. Blinded by the light I screw up my eyes and try to squirm out of its way. "I told you not to move!" he growls through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry," I whimper.

"Sorry, you don't know the meaning! I'll make you sorry" he threatens as he throws me to the floor and I scramble in attempt to move away. "Get up!" he shouts and I hurry to my feet. He takes my wrist and no longer seems concerned by the lack of light. Dubrovsky pulls me over to where we had been previously, my feet being continuously stabbed by the splinters of glass that litter the area.

He shoves the torch into my hand and reaches round into his back pocket. My heart sinks, I know this is the return of the handcuffs, I should have stayed still played his game, gained his trust and then used it against him. I'm so off form since my attack, no man would have been able to treat me like this a few years ago. The cold metal of the cuff reacquaints itself with my bruised and already red marked skin as it is locked into place.

Dubrovsky smiles proudly and then takes the torch back from me and turns his attention back to the packages on the floor. I watch in what dim light there is as he organises the contents out of my sight on the floor. A bang on the door interrupts him and he straightens up turning carefully so I don't see what he has unpacked. He throws me an evil smirk as he brushes passed me and makes his way to the door.

I hear him open it and greet whoever is outside as he steps out himself. I stand shivering in my damp robe waiting for him to return and can only pray he return alone. He is gone for a while before I hear his footsteps approaching me again. I feel his breath on my neck as he stands behind me and reaches up to trail his fingertips gently down my cheek. I hear him drop something beside us and instinctively look down and in the dim light from the torch held above it see a brown paper bag.

He leans in close and his lips brush my ear as he whispers. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes" his voice low and seductive as he pronounces each word perfectly. Dubrovsky's hand drops the torch and it rolls to the side. He then moves in close and wraps his arms around me as he unties the robe and it falls open. I tremble at the feel of his bare hands on my stomach and feel bile rise in my throat as I try not to think where this could be leading.


	78. Chapter 78

Dubrovsky's hands retreat from my body and he steps back, I slide my eyes to the side when I hear him moving and they follow him as he makes his way to stand in front of me. He stands tall in front of me and slides his hands underneath the silk of the robe and wraps them around my waist. Then he pulls me in close and squashes my bound hands uncomfortably between our bodies.

One hand keeps me firm in place as the other travels up and over my arm. Sliding under the silk on the robe on my shoulder he nudges it off and proceeds to place a gentle kiss upon my skin. Tears form along the rim of my eye and he moves his lips away and lifts his head back up to face me. He grins as he releases my tense body and lifts his other hand to remove the robe from my other shoulder. It's bunched on my arms where it cannot be slipped off until he removes the cuffs.

I stay stiff as he relieves my body of his touch and wait nervously for his next move. Why can't I fight him? I'm so scared and I know I don't want this! A single tear escapes and runs quickly down my cheek. Noticing it he is quick to wipe it away with his thumb before it can reach my top lip. "Don't cry, it'll be ok," he says but his words are empty and his expression blank.

Reaching down he grabs the cuffs and with his free hand searches his pocket for the keys. Finding them he frees me and throws the handcuffs down on the floor beside us. "Won't be needing them again," he informs wickedly as he grins back up at me. He cups my cheek with his hand as he lowers my now trembling arms and the robe falls to the floor. I shiver before him, as I stand exposed in the cold air that nips at my skin when he lets go. Moving back in close he wraps me in his arms and kisses me hard on the cheek. I try hard to fight back the tears but can feel them collecting along my eyes and building in the corners. His kisses continue trailing down my cheek and in the direction of my lips.

Dubrovsky's lips brush mine as they meet and he presses on to kiss me but I pull away. "Behave Carla," he warns as he grabs my chin and pulls me to him so he can continue his assault. I can't fight the tears as he presses his lips firmly against mine and they erupt flowing down my cheeks and running over my lip and into my mouth where I can taste how salty they are.

He keeps a tight grip on me as I try to wriggle away from him. I can feel myself getting all hot and sweaty as I wind myself up, terrified of the man who is currently dominating me. I make an attempt to scream as his tongue pushes my lips apart but he muffles the sound. My hands are clammy as I screw them up and release fingers from my palms. I can't do it, a voice inside my head is screaming out at me to fight, to defend myself and she sounds a whole lot like the old Carla, the feisty no nonsense women I was. As his assault becomes more vicious she presses on at me _'fight him Carla, come on be strong, fight him!' _her patience wearing thin.

My short shallow breaths are taking the majority of my energy but I need to focus, he is laughing at me, taking advantage of my vulnerability. _'FIGHT HIM CARLA!' _ The voice yells out at me and I push against him with a new found strength. "STOP!" I cry out panting for much needed oxygen. His face radiates surprise as he releases me and I stand crying, shaking and nervous I front of him. I look up at him but see no remorse displayed upon his features; he just smiles that same wicked smile that might as well be permanent.

Dubrovsky clears his throat and then takes a step closer to me again but I back away. "I was going to make this easy for you, but.." he says with a smile as he continues to approach me. I step backwards again but clumsily trip and lose my footing, tumbling to the ground. Dubrovsky seizes the opportunity and swoops down and hovers above me whilst pinning both my wrists to the floor. I can feel odd splinters of the glass nip at my skin as he grinds me into the concrete floor. The dim light left from the torch illuminates from behind and casts shadow upon his unique features, making his eyes look hollow and dark, with a real evil.

"You obviously want to do this the hard way" he spits as he continues. Releasing one of my wrists he delves into his pocket and pulls from it a handkerchief. Realising his plan I try to fight him with my free hand but he bats it away with his arm as he persists with holding it over my mouth and nose with an almost super human strength. His eyes flash with excitement as he sees his plan working and me slowly losing consciousness at his mercy.

I find myself regaining the consciousness I had lost earlier. As my eyes blink open and focus I see Dubrovsky illuminated by the early morning sunshine that is streaming into the building through the Perspex windows on the roof. He is busying himself with his back to me, I lift my head to look around and looking down I notice I am now dressed. Head to toe in a tight black vest top and leggings. I try as quietly as possible to sit up and hope he doesn't hear but the second I place my palms flat on the floor and start slowly pulling myself up, his head flies round and he stares at me. A cold hard stare and he is quick to move over to my side.

Having now sat up I wait nervously completely unsure of him but terrified of his power and how he is able to hold this over me. After all he does have all the leverage, he is the only one who can take me back to Peter now. He softly reaches for my arm and I flinch as his fingers wrap around it with a strong grip. "Just in time" he says chirpily with a small chuckle and my eyes widen in shock.

Just in time but what for? My first thought is that Peter's back, he must be here but it is soon dashed when I remember that upon awakening I had looked around and we were alone. Maybe he's due to arrive, or sat outside in a car. My heart beats fast in anticipation and excitement that I may see Peter again, and sooner than I had thought. My hopes are quickly crushed when Dubrovsky goes over to what he'd been working on and then returns to me with a box.

"What is it?" I ask in a croaky voice.

He smirks as he lifts the lid. "Surprise!" he says his voice full of wild excitement.


	79. Chapter 79

My eyes widen with alarm as I stare into the box and see four bricks that look like clay. I frown trying to decipher whether they are what I suspect they are. Dubrovsky reads my thoughts and answers my question before I have chance to ask. "C-4's" he says with a smirk and I suddenly feel myself running out of air. What is he going to do with those? My palms are sweaty and I feel the need to ask. My voice is shaky as I speak out, my lips wobbling ever so slightly, my eyes teary and my skin feeling deprived of all heat leaving me cold and pale. "What's it for?"

"For you darling" he says with a sadistic tone as he chuckles to himself and grins away. "Oh and I have another surprise for you!" he explains his voice all excited as he places the box down and rummages in the screwed up brown paper bag on the floor beside the other boxes. From it he pulls a newspaper and throws it in my direction.

It falls face down on the floor in front of me and I reach quickly for it. It is crumpled where it has been in the bag and I take a deep breath before turning it over. My hands shake as I gaze upon the headline, _'BELGOROD HOSTAGES HELD AT GUNPOINT' _Peter's picture is to one side and the main photograph, grainy black and white of him stood, gun in hand and passengers scattered all over the floor, fearing for their lives. My hand slaps across my mouth in shock and surprise that Peter could do such a thing, but I know, deep down he is only doing this to protect himself.

My eyes scan the wording but I don't comprehend a word of it, it is just black and white blurred text before my teary eyes. I look up and over at Dubrovsky who is smiling at me. "So, you ready to save him?" he asks. I'm confused, how can I save him unless…

"Come on Carla, only you can save him!" he exclaims.

I look at him with a dazed expression, my face radiating my confusion as I nod. I close my eyes and feel nothing but sorrow. Tears fall through my lashes as I think about what it is going to entail for me to get Peter back safely. My eyes focus on Dubrovsky as he continues to busy himself with the explosive he showed me earlier. "You okay over there? You're very quiet" he calls out over his shoulder in a joking manner. When I don't reply he sneaks a quick peek over his shoulder to make sure I'm actually still there.

I stare back down at the newspaper not quite believing the story concerning my boyfriend. His photo to one side stares back at me, eyes intense but, big and teary as if he is begging me to help. I find myself choked with emotion as I begin to read the text: _**Passengers today travelling from terminal three at Belgorod International airport found themselves at the mercy of English criminal Mr Barlow. He at this time still holds the passengers at gunpoint as officers police the scene. He only speaks of these passengers safety if Ms Carla Connor is returned to him immediately. Police have reported that Mr Barlow is armed and extremely dangerous and must not be approached. **_

I find myself unable to read on, this is ludicrous Peter is not a dangerous man. Tears continue to race down my cheeks and splash onto the paper causing the ink to smudge and run. I have no choice but to help Dubrovsky get him out of there or he is going to end up dead. My mind races with thoughts that could be running through Peter's right now, he must be so frightened, so scared of the unknown.

"Ready Carla" says Dubrovsky in an amused tone as he casts shadow over me.

He crouches down, snatches the paper from my hands and tosses it carelessly to one side. I look at him all teary eyed and feel scared but know I mustn't fight, just do what I'm told and get Peter back. Dubrovsky places his hands under my arms and lifts me from the floor. It seems strange to be back on my feet and I feel slightly disorientated but don't have time to reacquaint myself before he drags me into a more central spot on the warehouse floor.

I stand and wait nervously for him to explain what his plan is but we get nowhere before his phone rings again. He answers it as he marches off in the direction of the box that contains the explosive. His voice echoes around the empty metal shell as he shouts at the person who dared to call. "Okay, I'm working on it, give me an hour and you'll have what you need" he says angrily as he disconnects the call.

Snatching the box from the floor and the brown paper bag he strides back to me. His face bares very little emotion as he drops them down on the floor by my side. "Now you be good, don't mess me around and don't push me" he spits as he closes in on me. "This is your last warning Carla! It's Peter's life at stake, do you understand me" he whispers angrily right in my face. Swallowing hard I nod in understanding but he doesn't seem pleased. "Answer Me," he yells.

"Yes" I'm quick to whisper.

Dubrovsky steps back and turn his attention back to the goods on the floor. I feel my heartbeat increase as I watch him pull out a block of C-4 now equipped with the appropriate red wiring and he takes a role of tape from the bag. He holds the block up against my stomach and then orders me to hold it in place. I hesitate, not sure if want to help turn myself into a walking, human bomb. I don't understand what it will achieve. "Hold it Carla," he shouts and he grabs my hand to slap it over the explosive block.

I feel so sick, I can taste it at the back of my throat and don't know how long I can suffer and hold it back. My increased heart rate has turned to heavy and irregular and I cannot concentrate on a single thing as I see him pull out a second block and he forces me to hold it parallel to it's partner. Taking the tape he begins to wind it around my body, hugging me tightly as he slips it through my arms and round my back. It's so tight it pushes the blocks into my ribs and causes me great discomfort.

Reaching back down and into the box he grabs the second two blocks and presses them against my back, he reaches again for my hand and twists my arm uncomfortably up my back to hold one in place whilst he secures it to my body. Suddenly I bow my head and I can't stop myself as I begin to retch. I choke on my vomit as it spills from my lips and leaves an unpleasant taste lingering in my mouth.

"You quite finished?" asks Dubrovsky as I lift my head and draw in a deep fresh breath.

I don't dignify his ignorance with a response and he eventually continues about his business. In his hand he holds a bunch of different sized red and black wires and he hurries about me connecting up the blocks as if it were a game.

"Perfect" he exclaims as he steps back. He heads back over where a final box lays on the floor unopened, picks it up and rips the tape from the top and from inside pulls a jacket and another boxed item.

He strides back to me and hands me the jacket to hold whilst he opens up his final parcel. "Finishing touch!" he declares pulling out a small black, rectangular box. Pressing a small button on top he shows me the screen as it illuminates and I can clearly see it is a clock. He presses the next button down and the number begins to decrease. I was wrong, its no clock, it's a timer.

Dubrovsky moves to behind me and I'm only too aware that he is connecting me to that timer. I hear his hands clap together as he finishes his work and then he takes the jacket from my grasp. He slips my arms into the sleeves and pulls it up over my shoulders before returning to my front to zip it up and hide all the ugly wiring.

"Right, lets go then" he explains taking my hand and leading me carefully from the building. He walks me to the car we arrived in and helps me into my seat. "Now you must be careful Carla, delicate stuff you're carrying there" he warns and slams the door shut a second later. He jumps into the drivers seat and revs the engine as he pulls away.

We sit silently in each other company as we press on through the town centre traffic on the highways. The atmosphere is tense and the car stays silent apart from Dubrovsky repeating two words over and over, amusing only himself.

"Tick Tock, Tick Tock"


	80. Chapter 80

I glare at him, as he smirks concentrating on my torment and the traffic up ahead taking great care to be delicate with the handling of the car. Soon after exiting the main highway that runs through city centre I see signs for Belgorod and we fly past them until we reach the necessary exit.

"Tick Tock, Tick Tock" he continues with his torment before addressing me with an actual question. "You ok there Carla, you're very quiet" his eyes settle on me instead of the road when I don't answer and I can feel them burning into me as I bow my head and can no longer contain my tears.

The car swerves unexpectedly, taking me by surprise and I catch my breath as it screeches to a stop and Dubrovsky pulls the handbrake on. "Don't cry," he orders in a harsh tone. "Carla you'll blow this, it's for you and Peter" he presses on when I don't cease. "Dry your eyes, he won't trust you if your in this state" he shouts flinging a handkerchief at me. Luckily it is a different one to that he used to knock me out the other night, I really don't feel like another dose of chloroform. I dab my eyes as he pulls away, speeding up and muttering under his breath as he was before. "Tick Tock, Tick Tock" if he keeps this up it will just lose all meaning.

We fly off the exit marked with a sign in Russian but beside it is a little aeroplane symbol, so this must be the slip road leading to the airport. Right enough I see Belgorod in the distance as we come down the road and it slowly grows before my eyes as we make our approach. I take a deep breath and fight all the emotion I am feeling and hold back my tears before they get the better of me.

Dubrovsky has told me the plan and how I must act if this is to work for everyone. I've been trying to prepare myself the whole journey and still don't feel calm and ready to face the music. I can only pray this works and Peter gives himself up at the sight of me. Dubrovsky has explained that if Peter doesn't co-operate or tries to hold me hostage with the others the bomb will be activated in an attempt to save the lives of the innocent. Obviously that won't include Peter or myself but we have done nothing to be guilty for. Well not intentionally.

The car pulls up in the parking lot and Dubrovsky slams his door once he's removed himself from the vehicle. He marches round to my side looking terribly suspicious and looks around before opening my door and offering me his hand for support as I exit the vehicle also. "Just protocol" he says as he reproduces the handcuffs from his jacket pocket. I wonder when he picked those up from the warehouse floor because I just don't recall.

He links arms with me and leads me across the car park and round to the main entrance. His phone rings and he is quick to answer it, looking away from me as he speaks, again a coded conversation. As we walk along the path leading to the main door, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the glass and I still look, worn out and ill. A shadow of the Carla I was a few weeks ago when we left Weatherfield. I look at my outfit to see if the covered explosive is obvious and to me it certainly looks that way but I suspect it is just because I know it's there. Dubrovsky wouldn't have made it obvious surely, because if Peter realises I'm sure they won't get the reaction they are hoping for.

I take one last deep breath as we enter the airport and head off to the right passed the check in desks. Conversation over he shoves his mobile back into his pocket. Upon reaching security we are told we cannot go through but with a flash of ID we are cleared and proceed onward. Different numbers label the gates and waiting terminals as we march down the corridor and I feel myself tearing up again. I'm quick to look down at my feet hoping that Dubrovsky won't notice.

We come to an abrupt halt and I look up to see why. Officers and trained specialists are crouched around and stealthily placed. A glass panel wall is all that separates them from Peter and his hostages. I'm pulled to one side, out of sight behind a wall. Dubrovsky orders me to stay still and await instruction as he goes to speak to the man in charge of the operation who I can only assume has helped him conduct this horrific scheme. They certainly have a strange way in Russia of dealing with hostage situations.

Moment's later Dubrovsky returns to me, looking me square in the eye as he removes my cuffs. "Now Carla, this is how this works, Peter is going to be told you're here. That's what they are doing now. If he still refuses to release the hostages we will let you go in. You walk in and tell him to let everyone go, if he refuses you must signal us by raising your arm. As soon as you do that the bomb will be activated and you must go to Peter and disarm him to give us chance to get everyone out. Can you do that?" he whispers looking round the wall to see how negotiations are going.

I nod and then the thought crosses my mind, once the timer has been activated _if _I can help get all the hostages out safely, what happens after? "If I'm successful what happens to me?" I ask in a shaky voice trying to steady my on edge nerves and keep calm. "You'll be ok Carla, you have my word," he says with a smirk, still concentrating on events with his colleagues. There is something I don't like about this whole situation, but I'm here now and his word will have to do, I am after all not in a position to be able to negotiate.

"Ok, its time" he says looking at me again. Peter has obviously failed to co-operate and clearly wants to see me. I swallow hard and try to stop myself from shaking as Dubrovsky urges me to appear from my hiding place. Through the glass Peter catches sight of me. The man in charge shouts to him. "MR BARLOW, WE ARE GOING TO LET MS CONNOR IN PLEASE NOD IF THIS OK" Peter gives the nod and summons a passenger from the floor to open the door he has locked whilst he holds a gun to the poor mans head.

Dubrovsky ushers me to the door and then leaves me to proceed alone. I wait as the poor hostage's hand shakes violently as he twists the keys in the lock and then places a hand on the handle to open the door up for me. Taking small steps I enter the room and stop in front of Peter, who persists to yell aggressively for the door to be shut and locked again straight away. The frightened passenger is then ordered to take his place back on the floor amongst the other hostages.

'Remember the plan Carla' I tell myself looking round at the terrorised expressions amongst the hostages and suddenly feel a great weight upon my shoulders. All these people's fates rest on whether Peter still trusts me and my persuasion techniques, which lets face it aren't great right now.


	81. Chapter 81

My eyes finally settle on Peter who is staring at me but has his arm extended out and the gun still aimed at a few passengers. His finger rests on the trigger and I just hope he doesn't fire it accidentally. His hand is shaking uncontrollably and just one slip of a finger could result in innocent bloodshed. Still bound by my handcuffs I wait for Peter to approach me but for now he seems to be keeping his distance.

"You ok Carla?" he asks after a long silence. I nod in reply, my eyes teary as I move my gaze to the gun he's holding out. "Carla, baby what's wrong?" asks Peter. My mouth is completely dry as I go to answer him and I choke on my words "Let them go Peter"

He looks at me confused, searching my eyes for the reason behind my request. It's what I needed; he lowers his hand and the gun to aim at the floor. He makes his way to me and opens his arms wide to embrace me. He holds me tight the gun resting behind me and my hands squashed painfully between us. He doesn't settle and pulls away almost instantly. Reaching up he grips the zip of my jacket. "Peter don't," I cry knowing if he discovers what is underneath it could blow the whole operation, if you'll excuse the pun.

Peter looks up at me with a frown aware I am unable to physically stop him and slowly pulls the zip down. I glance over my shoulder with a worried look at Dubrovsky but he looks furious, he knows this is not going to plan. I turn back to Peter and swallow hard as his eyes keep focused on mine. As the zip reaches level with the top of my tummy he starts to uncover tangles of red and black wiring. He is quick to unzip the rest and his eyes almost pop from his head when he catches sight of the explosive blocks, taped to my body.

"Oh Carla" he says in a soft voice as tears develop along the rims of his eyes. I look down unable to face him and listen as some of the hostages who can see me start gasping. Peter's free hand cups my face to lift it back to look at him. "What do they want?" he asks me.

"You need to let them all go Peter," I answer, trembling and hoping he'll do it. He shakes his head in reply and his hand slides away from my cheek as he steps back. Feeling confused I watch him as he steps slowly round to my back. "How long has this got on it Carla?" he asks.

Dubrovsky never advised I couldn't tell Peter it wasn't live until I gave a signal so I guess it is ok to tell him. "It's not live, you have chance to let them go before they activate it" I explain but Peter doesn't reply, he reaches up to my shoulders and suddenly pulls the jacket back to reveal the timer. I hear Peter gasp behind me and then he suddenly release the jacket, leaving it positioned uncomfortably around my back.

"What's wrong?" I ask out in to the silence in a low voice, so as not to scare all the hostages but aware that those close by can hear. I find myself crying when I'm met by only silence and then in my peripheral vision I see Peter go to one side and grab a female hostage, press the gun firmly against her temple and whisper something in her ear. I can't stop myself from calling out "Please don't hurt her Peter"

He flashes me an angry _'be quiet' _Carla look, and continues. He walks her slowly to the door and I hear him fit the keys in lock, open the door and push her out. Locking the door again he comes and stands in front of me with his back to me and addresses the hostages.

"RIGHT LISTEN CAREFULLY AND NO-ONE WILL GET HURT. ON THE COUNT OF THREE ALL GO AND STAND AT THE BACK OF THE ROOM AND FACE THE WALL"

"ONE…TWO…THREE"

The crowd get up and hurry to follow Peter's instructions all gathering along the far wall. I peek over my shoulder again and see Dubrovsky deep in conversation with his colleague. From what I can gather it's a fairly heated debate and I wonder if it has anything to do with the activation of the explosives. The women Peter threatened and through out is cowering in a far corner and looking terrified, she catches me looking and I give her a sympathetic smile but she is quick to avoid any further contact with me.

Once Peter is satisfied with the hostages' efforts he turns back to me. "What are you doing Peter?" I ask, hoping he will have a reasonable explanation for all this madness. He licks his lips nervously and then comes in closer to me. "They set you up baby, those explosives are live!" That feeling of sickness returns instantly to me and I can once again taste vomit at the back of my throat.

"What?" I ask in disbelief. He's got to be joking Dubrovsky gave me his word. I break down in front of him, tears streaming from my eyes, feeling choked and unable to breathe properly. I collapse to the floor before him without a single thought for the explosives strapped around me. "You have to trust me Carla, I have a plan" says Peter positively.

Looking up I await his explanation. He smiles sweetly at me but keeps his distance. I would give anything to be able to reach out for him, to have him hold me but I can't. "They have no choice but to de-activate it, they'd be slated for blowing up innocent people, so we'll just sit tight." He says this so cheerily, he cannot be sure of that, we could all die!

"Let me go and talk to them, please Peter" I beg, hoping that maybe I can do something, but he shakes his head. "No, I have you back, I will protect you Carla. I promise"


	82. Chapter 82

"How long?" I ask as Peter paces up and down nervously. My words fall upon deaf ears as he is deep in thought, he's playing the game, but its all based on luck and we've got to be two of the unluckiest people in the world so we are destined to lose. I don't know why, for just once in his life Peter can't act rationally, hand over the hostages. But they are his leverage now, the only way he is going to be able to get that lying scum Dubrovsky to de-activate this bomb, he just has no idea how.

"Peter!" I cry from my seated position on the floor and this time I manage to catch his attention. "How long?" I ask my voice low and it is evident to him that I am scared. He looks behind me and then moves to fall to his knees before me. "Thirty minutes" he answers casually like it's no big deal.

I can feel the cold beads of sweat that have developed across my forehead and my top lip as I find myself in a state of panic. There is no clock and I don't have a watch so I just have to wait and hope Peter can come up with a suitable plan. Glancing over my shoulder I take a look at events happening between Dubrovsky and his colleague. I catch his gaze and my teary eyes lock with his. They must show how frightened I am but he doesn't seem concerned either. He turns away after long shaking his head.

Time is ticking and now I think I understand why he kept saying _'Tick Tock' _in the car. He'd had this timer running all this time, no wonder he was in such a hurry to get me here. Peter occasionally looks over at me, but I know he is struggling to think how he can get this stopped. I can't help thinking it would be better for him to hand me back to the police, they would have to disarm the explosive, they wouldn't want to blow themselves apart.

"Peter, If you just let me go and….." I try to explain my idea but he cuts me dead. "No Carla, I told you I'll protect you" he re-assures. He is so stubborn, we're running out of time, this will only result in killing us both and too many innocent people, who don't deserve to be put through this torture.

Suddenly his pacing ceases and he turns to face me a matter of minutes later. "I have an idea but its not…Carla?" he starts and ends questioning me probably because I'm staring at him intensely. Well I'm not staring at him as such, more at the red dot that is bouncing around his forehead trying to settle between his eyes. I stammer but cannot find the words to explain to him. Luckily he dives down and is directly in front of me. He takes my hands and holds them gently in his. "What is it?"

"Don't move" I eventually manage.

"Carla please we don't have long," he says in an annoyed tone. He needs to realise, if they get an aim on him and manage to kill him, they can get the hostages out and leave me alone still strapped up and we'd both be dealt with. "They have a gun Peter, it was targeted on you," I say in a soft low voice, eager to make him wake up and see just how serious this all is. His eyes widen in alarm and I feel his hands start to shake against mine.

"I'll sort this Carla, trust me, you'll be ok"

Peter turns his head to look at the passengers and then turns back to me. "Forgive me please," he says as he stares into my eyes and gives me a weak smile. Why do I need to forgive him? What stupid thing is he going to do now? Making a quick dash for it he hides himself amongst the passengers, and I can just about see the top of his head as he searches them, but for what?

I hear cries from a women, a mother no doubt and eventually Peter emerges. I catch my breath as I see whom with. A small girl with blonde ringlets and big blue eyes, her pale skin and rosy cheeks making her look like a porcelain doll. Peter has a tight grip on her arm and I assume it is her mother I can hear weeping amongst the crowd. She is powerless to save her daughter and unsure of her fate. My heart goes out to her, Peter should have more compassion he is a father.

The gun rests firmly on the young girls temple and her tears glisten as they drop down her cheeks. She is petrified; a stranger has held her hostage and is now using her to save himself. He is smarter than this and no matter how bad things have got there is no excuse to use a child in form of a wager. His plan dawns on me with that last thought he is going to use the poor child as a bargain, life for a life.

Given the situation I say that she is a very brave young lady, but I doubt her mother will forgive Peter, or myself for that matter. Peter drags her past me and into view of the officers. I close my eyes and bow my head before turning to see what he is up to. In this time I offer up a silent prayer for all of us in the room and our safety. Having shuffled around fully and taken my watchful eye off the hostages I look up and watch the events before me.

Peter takes the keys and inserts them back into the lock; if he opens up that door he has no shield. My heart stops as I watch and all is revealed. Peter pulls open the door and keeps the young girl in front of him. "You" he demands and I watch as Dubrovsky points to himself and Peter nods. Dubrovsky steps forward and awaits instruction from Peter.

"You, in here. You disarm this bomb," he orders.

Dubrovsky laughs, his response unexpected by all. His colleague seems shocked; surely in a hostage situation where lives are at stake, especially young and innocent ones you do your best to appease the criminal? "You do it or she dies," Peter commands jabbing the gun into the poor girls temple so hard she cries out in pain. The smile fades from Dubrovsky's face. The man keeps his air of confidence and goes to answer, but finds himself commanded by his colleague to follow Peter's instruction.

Left with only one choice he enters the room walking slowly passed Peter and over to me. Whilst Peter locks the door sealing us firmly back into isolation Dubrovsky crouches down and leans in closely to me so as to whisper in my ear. "This won't work Carla, you'll be dead before he can harm a single hostage" As he draws away from me and to look me in the eye I see the smile re-emerge on his lips. He is not finished and he certainly won't end this here. For some reason he wants me dead and he won't stop until I am a cold life form in Peter's arms.


	83. Chapter 83

The little girl is still held firmly in Peter's grasp with the gun planted firmly into her temple. Peter is holding her by covering her mouth, he has total control over her, but this is so out of character even for him. Desperate times certainly do drive people to desperate measures. I stare into her frightened little eyes as they focus on me. I wish I could help but I'm powerless. I hate kids but I can't help but empathise with the little girl, after all I have been held against my will on more than one occasion.

Peter stands beside Dubrovsky cool and calm as he continues to give the orders. "Disarm that bomb!" he yells. They've certainly wasted enough time, I don't think this is time for hesitation but Dubrovsky obviously thinks differently. He saunters slowly round me and then comes to a halt behind me. "Tick Tock, Tick Tock" he begins in a low voice, eventually getting louder and louder as he crouches down to my level.

I feel him pull the jacket down further to reveal the timer but in front of me I watch as Peter begins to lose his nerve. He knows as well as I do there can now only be no more than ten minutes on the timer if that. "Quit stalling!" Peter yells removing the gun from the girl's head and aiming at Dubrovsky and me. When he chuckles in response Peter pushes the young girls to the floor and storms over to him to see what is keeping him.

"Let the hostages go Barlow, it's the only way to save her" I hear him whisper to Peter. I expect Peter to retaliate but am surprised to find he agrees. There is a sigh of relief from the crowd when Dubrovsky turns to tell them they are free to go but must make a quick an orderly exit. "Three minutes" he announces as Peter marches forward with the key to let them out.

I feel myself developing another cold sweat as I work myself into a fresh state of panic. Three minutes, is that all I have, or am I blessed with a few minutes more? I cannot will the hostages out any faster, I just want to be rid of this bomb, safe and with the man I love, with Peter. My breathing and heart rate grow more erratic with every passenger that passes through the doorway.

I watch as the police usher them further away from the area and as the last few hostages cross over into the safety of the corridor. Dubrovsky leans in towards Peter, who has stupidly let go of and stood back from the door having left the keys in the lock. "Good Luck" he adds cheekily as he grabs the keys and darts through the doorway. He holds it tight and attempts to lock it from the outside as Peter pulls with every bit of strength he has. Succeeding he smiles through the glass as the officers clear away from the scene. "Tick Tock" he mouths silently before throwing his head back in gesture of a roaring laugh and walks away.

"Bastard!" Peter yells out, banging his fists hard on the glass in frustration.

Peter and I are alone; we will be the only two to see the devastating explosion. I sit heaving for breath, trying to summon up the courage to be brave and face what is inevitable. It can't be long now surely? We have a limited time left together, I think he should hold me, we should forgive each other and die happily in love with each other like Romeo and Juliet or for a more fitting couple Bonnie and Clyde.

My lips and throat are dry; I have no courage to speak out, to try and sooth Peter. He has resumed his aimless pacing, rubbing his temples aggressively and muttering under his breath. I watch him hoping he'll focus on the situation at hand, we must have less than two minutes until this stupid thing blows me to smithereens. You would really think I'd be priority.

If I wasn't bound by these stupid cuffs I would try and help myself but I can't and the one person who could maybe try and help me seems to have reverted into a world of his own. "Peter?" I ask in a croaky voice as I attempt to clear my throat but it doesn't break his pace. "Peter?" I call out again in a slightly stronger voice and he fires a look my way. "What are we going to do?" I ask feeling my emotion get the better of me and my tears beginning to fall heavily once more.

"Hey, don't cry" he says rushing to my side and crouching down to wipe them from my cheeks. "I promised to protect you Carla and I will" he reassures wrapping his arms tightly around me.

"How long?" I ask choking on the words as they rush from my lips. Peter lets go quickly and looks at me, his eyes intense as he searches for something positive to say but all he can manage is a tight lipped smile. He takes grip on my shoulders and twists my body to look at the timer.

"Peter what's wrong?" I ask as he turns me back to face him. His expression is blank, he's neither happy nor sad but something isn't right. I know him too well he's confused. "Peter!" I plead anxious to know what has him vexed. I can't believe he is going to keep me in this suspense, I could have a minute to live I could have ten seconds and he is keeping me on edge. "I love you Peter" I declare, knowing that I have to say it, before it is too late. He has to know that before we die.

My out of place declaration takes him by surprise but he answers. "I love you too" but he seems pale and still extremely confused. "Peter, please how long have I got?" I ask in a serious tone. I don't know why I want to know; I think it is because I just want to be prepared. Well if you can be prepared in a situation like this. Peter reaches out to cup my cheek.

As his hand pulls away, he shuffles around me to view the timer. "Peter" I press on desperate for an answer.

I hear him swallow hard before giving his answer.

"Zero"


	84. Chapter 84

My life flashes before my eyes, my marriage to Paul, my affair with Liam, wedding with Tony, heartbreak with Trev, the horrors of my time spent with Frank and my dramatic events that led to me and Peter and where we are now. So much has happened in my life they should make a movie! I suddenly realise after all that I'm still breathing and can't help but feel lost and confused.

"What?" I ask in shaky voice.

Sitting in shock I can't believe what I have just heard Peter say. He must be joking, trying to make me less nervous, I don't know but whatever it is it's not working. "It's at Zero baby," he says positively. It can't be, it just can't and suddenly I feel myself consumed with panic and fear.

"It can't be. No Peter, tell me the truth" I plead desperately

"That is the truth baby," he says in a soft voice.

"No Peter it can't be. This doesn't make sense, none of this makes any sense," I cry out breathlessly, running my fingers into my hair and pulling at it to try and control my frustration. My chest is rising and falling at a rapid rate and I'm feeling at the brink of a complete breakdown.

"Keep calm baby, it's either a loose connection or maybe the whole thing was a decoy, you know to make me co-operate" he offers in an attempt to make me feel better, but it won't work. This bomb has to go off, Dubrovsky is no joker he is a bad man and he wants us punished for what we did to his _'friends'. _ I turn to look over my shoulder, I want to see Peter, and if I look in his eyes I'll know if he is being sincere about the matter.

However I find myself distracted somewhat by a presence back at the door. I'm now looking over mine and Peter's shoulder's as I watch Dubrovsky approach and he looks mad. It's a rage, a calculated anger and it is not towards us. It is almost as though he is angry with himself. Storming up to the door, we both sit and watch as he slides the key into the lock and we hear it click open.

Peter, bless him in his ignorance rises to his feet to rush over and welcome Dubrovsky back. I hear him foolishly make the error of thanking Dubrovsky for coming back to set us free and remove the explosive from my body. Dubrovsky is quick to approach me and then turns to Peter. "I am here to do no such thing!" he shouts before hurrying to the timer on my back.

My heart pounds painfully against my chest when I tense as a reaction to his touch. "What you doing?" Peter asks. It's too late to ask I think to myself, isn't it obvious? I knew the bomb failing to obliterate me was not luck, or a good fortune. It was an unlucky mistake, but its creator is here to correct it and make sure there would be no further hiccups in both mine and Peter's departure from life.

"You'll see," he answers wickedly.

He yanks and pulls at wires behind me, but he must know what he is doing because one mishap and surely he'll blow us all away. I'm certain that is not his plan and he hums as he busies himself, in an attempt to drown out Peter's awkward questions. Thankfully he knows better than to interfere because I half expected him to fight Dubrovsky off me and trigger the switch for the bomb.

"Please, I'm begging you just let Carla go, none of this was her fault it was all mine. Punish me!" Peter pleads heroically but Dubrovsky isn't buying it. He continues to ignore Peter knowing it will torture him further. Finally I feel him click down the timer start button again and then he is gone. His hands no longer all over my body making my skin crawl.

As he goes to walk away Peter grabs him by the arm, pushed to his limits he gets right up close into Dubrovsky face to address him. "What have you done?" he yells in a demanding tone. Dubrovsky continues to smirk and simply replies with 'Tick Tock'. The words are slow and pronounced perfectly, clear as day so we can both hear. Shaking Peter off he makes his exit, taking care to lock us back in and wave as he leaves.

"Peter?" I call now feeling the need for him at my side. I'm so scared this time, it could be any second and only Peter can tell me how long he has given us. Peter doesn't turn to me he continues to stand with his face pressed against the glass, staring idly at the empty space beyond.

"Peter please" I call out desperate for his attention. When it comes to priorities Peter has no idea, his are always wrong.

"Peter" I yell angrily in a final attempt to get his attention and it works.

He turns to look at me, tears streaming from his blotchy red eyes. I haven't seen tears like that since Leanne took Simon away to live with her at the pub. He stands still, not moving from that spot, keeping his distance from me as I had originally asked. Taking a deep breath he opens his mouth to speak.

"You look frightened, like a little girl Carla"

"I am frightened Peter" I answer my voice barely a whisper. It's enough for him to have a change of heart and come rushing to me.

"I'm sorry Carla," he says in a low voice as he takes my hands and looks at me nervously.

"Please Peter, how long do we have?" I ask again in that same desperate voice as I did earlier and he lingers before me a moment longer than I had hoped but eventually he gets up and goes round to my back. I feel the strange sensation of deja vu as he falls silent, It's almost like earlier but more eerie.

"Peter?" I prompt feeling nerves starting to get the better of me.

In response he mutters under his breath and I find myself in the position of having to order him to speak up and spit out whatever it is he is trying to say.

"Zero, it's Zero again!" he announces in a more than puzzled tone.


	85. Chapter 85

"What are you doing?" I ask as I feel him fiddling with the gadget behind me. "Peter, you don't know what you're doing!" I shout but he continues. "Peter, leave it" I scold. If these handcuffs didn't bind my hands I would turn round and slap some sense into him. Suddenly something clicks and I instantly cease breathing, awaiting an explosion but still nothing.

"Peter what have you done?" I ask wearily.

"Peter?"

"I'm sorry Carla, so sorry" he replies in a shaky voice.

"What have you done? Peter?" I ask turning to look at him as he slowly backs away from me shaking his head and tearing up. His skin is the palest I have ever seen it and his eyes widen as he stares at the fixed spot on my back, where the timer sits. "Peter please, what have you done?" I beg.

His hands grasp the sides of his face and with clawed fingers he scratches slowly up and down the sides of his face in frustration. Small beads of sweat have formed along his brow and upper lip, he is looking so anxious. He continues the routine of scratching his cheeks and I can see that he is digging so hard he is leaving red marks. My eyes tear again instantly at the sight of him so distressed.

We seem to stay like this for ages, in silence until Peter without warning goes running to the door. My eyes follow him round and I watch quietly sobbing as he thuds his fists continuously against it. He shouts as loud as he can for Dubrovsky, his voice deep and filled with anger. But I don't feel anger at all, I'm nervous, Peter is in a state of panic, frantically trying to get help and it makes me wonder what he has done to the bomb.

He didn't panic this much the first time the timer stopped and he wasn't like this when Dubrovsky reset it, so what is different, what's changed? He continues to pound on the glass making it shake violently in its frame, shouting and shouting until a shadow of a man begins to approach.

As he comes closer and better into my view I see it is Dubrovsky, this time he is not angry, he seems amused. A great smirk painted on his lips and he flashes a little tooth as he gives a hearty laugh. Peter continues to shout when he sees it is him approaching. He seems frightened, screaming now with impatience. It leads me only to one conclusion; time is ticking, literally this time.

Having approached the door he rummages in his pocket for the keys, upon finding them he dangles them up in front of Peter teasingly before popping them in the lock. No sooner has he opened the door and stepped in Peter has grabbed him by the lapels on his jacket. He slams him into the glass panelling and then holds him there, I'm surprised when Dubrovsky doesn't try to resist. Peter breathes quickly and deeply, so loudly I can hear it clearly where I am sat waiting in suspense.

"You bastard, get that thing off her!" Peter yells in Dubrovsky's face.

"If you let me go I suppose I could be of assistance," he replies all to easily and with a small chuckle.

Peter obliges, dropping him instantly. He straightens himself up and gives Peter one last look, not a taunting look but a warning, a don't push me warning. I can see Peter is still wound up, but he knows better than in to let his pride get the better of him in this situation.

Upon reaching me he reaches down and lifts me up to place me on my feet. To tell the truth I am grateful, ever since I decide to sink myself to the floor I was wishing I hadn't. My bottom is completely numb and the floor was freezing cold. I sway a little attempting to find my balance and Dubrovsky holds me until I do.

"What are you waiting for?" Peter snaps from behind him.

He doesn't turn to answer Peter but he does answer. He stares deep into my eyes with his twinkling eyes and directs the answer to me. "Oh nothing" he says in an amused tone as he reaches out for my arms and runs his hands down them, stroking them until he reaches my sweaty palms. Holding my hands he examines my face and my expression "are you scared?" he whispers.

"Of course she's scared, you've strapped her to explosives!" Peter shouts in answer for me.

Dubrovsky turns his head in a violent action to face Peter. "Did I ask you?" his voice booms. It leaves Peter speechless and he retreats back further away from us. We're playing with fire, this I have always been aware of but Peter, I think he has only just realised. Dubrovksy asks me the question again and in a timid voice I reply with yes.

"You should be," he warns in a low voice making sure that Peter does not hear and interfere any further.

Dubrovsky squeezes my left hand as he releases the right. "Come" he orders, pulling me forward and making me almost trip on my own feet of which the result could be fatal. He drags my towards the door as Peter stands lifeless and gaping at me. My teary eyes look at him; silently begging him to help me, do anything to stop him taking me away again. But Peter does nothing he just continues to stand still, statuesque as I disappear from sight.

Coming to my senses I try to fight against Dubrovsky, desperate not to be separated from Peter again. He only tries to restrain me further and tightens his grip, huffing and puffing as he drags me away, through the main building of the airport. Passengers line our path and stare in horror as I scream and cry hysterically behind Dubrovsky, trying my best to cause him inconvenience. As we reach the door he loses his grip on my hand and I, having resisted against him, stumble backwards awkwardly again almost losing my balance. I take a moment to collect my breath and look up at him. We are in a stalemate, who will move first? Will he make a grab for me and I am too slow not to get caught or will I turn and run before he can stop me? We stare at each other as we both try to figure it out, and the crowd watch quietly waiting to see what will unfold.


	86. Chapter 86

My heart pounds painfully in my chest as I make the decision to run. Probably not the smartest idea, because Dubrovsky is the only one who is going to get me out of this bomb alive, but I don't trust him and I want Peter. In a way he is my safe place, I feel protected, not always but I know he does try his best. This _'break' _has been tough on us both and it certainly has worn both our patience thin, but underneath this I know we are solid.

My feet move before my brain orders them to and I go running back from where we came. At first I don't look over my shoulder but after a while, when I hear another set of shoes tapping on the marble I look to find he is chasing me. I'm surprised he isn't gaining on me yet, I never run so this must be my adrenalin fuelling me.

I gasp for breath as I race down the corridors back to the waiting lounge where Peter is located. Our shoes echo terribly off the walls and floors as we approach the glass panelling that is now the only separation between Peter and me. I see him sat on the floor, his head in his hands between his knees, but as we get closer and the echoes get louder it alerts his attention.

With his head lifted, he wipes the tears from his eyes and stares at me in disbelief. I cry his name just before the doorway and watch as his eyes widen. He seems surprised, or shocked, I'm not entirely sure which and then he screams my name. I glance over my shoulder one last time and see Dubrovsky hot on my heels, but looking back I know the doorway is not far and I'll be safe in Peter's arms. I really am surprised I have managed to make it this far without loosing my balance and falling, I mean I don't know if you have ever tried but trying to run with your hands restrained is not easy.

I find myself panting for breath as I come within reaching distance of the door, but as fate would have it I'm not going to make it safely into Peter's arms. Glancing over my shoulder on last time, Dubrovsky has his hand out for me and luckily for him he is within reaching distance. He takes a handful of my hair and pulls me back, forcing me to lose balance and end up caught in the possessive grip of his arms.

I kick and try my hardest to fight and break free, I scream for him to let go and thrash about violently completely forgetting about the fragile state of the explosives strapped to me. Dubrovsky completely over powers me and begins to drag me away. I throw my head back in an attempt to look at Peter. I see him stood there, watching in horror, he looks like a lost puppy no idea how to save me and isn't even trying to figure it out from what I can tell.

"Let go of me!" I scream through my gritted teeth.

I throw my head about in all directions before hearing and feeling a clunk as I hit his chin. "Bitch" he yells as he gasps with the shock. It isn't enough to stop me, I will make it as difficult as possible for him to take me from here and I continue the kicking and wrestling as he drags me back through the corridors to the main area. The passengers seem to be eagerly awaiting our return and as we approach I can hear them all chattering.

Just before we enter he stops and suddenly slams me face first into the wall. Holding me tightly at the back of my neck and pushing himself into me to hold me in place. With his free hand he scoops back my hair to reveal my ear and then making sure his lips just brush it he talks. I can feel how angry he is and that anger is also present in his voice. "Time is ticking Carla, you keep fighting me and he'll die sooner," he warns. His warm breath upon my ear and his words send a shiver down my spine, what does he mean?

His warnings always get through to me and I can sense his sense of achievement when he peels me back from the wall and taking a tight grip on both of my wrists parades me out for the crowd to see. A wall of officers keep them back from us and in control but it doesn't stop them pointing and gasping as we pass.

Reaching the door he nods at the officer who is stood holding it open and we pass through. The sun is high in the sky and blinding as it reflects from the thin layer of snow and icy patches that cover the surroundings. Violently pushing me along the pavement Dubrovsky forces me to make my way back to where we had left the car upon arrival. As we cross the roads to the car park I slip many a time on ice patches and my heart literally leaps into my throat with every scare.

It takes us a while to make it safely to the car and as we approach it he beeps the key to un-lock it. He helps me round and into the passenger seat, taking great care not to catch the wiring on anything. Once he has popped my seatbelt across me, for as he puts it _'a precaution' _he leaves me and goes to get himself into the driver seat.

"What did you mean?" I ask

He smiles "What about?" he asks in joking manner. I know he knows full well what I mean; he really does enjoy playing games.

"You said he'll die, what do you mean?" I ask innocently, genuinely upset at the thought he'll hurt Peter.

He cackles, a loud, deep and awful sound. He starts the car and the engine roars into life so he can pull away. He puts his foot to the accelerator and revs the engine whilst the wipers clear the fresh snow from the windscreen. Releasing the handbrake the car starts to pull forward, but he has failed to answer my question and I want to know exactly what he means before we leave.

I stare at him in his amused state as he manoeuvres the car towards.

"What did you mean?" I shout choking on my words as emotion gets the better of me and the freshly formed tears wait to fall.

"Watch and you'll see" he says calmly.

We roll passed the airport entrance as we follow the exit signs and I'm distracted watching as I have been told. All the passengers are being removed and hurried onto buses, luckily there are not too many, just the hundred or so that Peter had kept hostage. He pulls in front of the first bus and leaving the car running leaves the vehicle to speak to his colleague.

He isn't gone long before he is back by my side. "Not long now" he says as the first bus pulls out and drives around us. "Just getting the innocent people to safety " he informs me. Once all the buses have left we follow, driving out fast towards the exit. Tears fall from my eyes as I wonder if Peter is the last one in there. He must be, I didn't see him being put onto the buses or any police cars to take him away.

"What about Pe…." I begin but find myself interrupted by the sound of beeping, the same beeping a timer would give having reached zero and then that's when I hear it, 'BOOM!"

Turning to where the explosion has come from, I see the airport alive with flame and scream knowing Peter is inside. But to my side Dubrovsky laughs deeply and presses hard on the accelerator so we fly away.


	87. Chapter 87

My fingers slip as I desperately try to release the seatbelt, again this is much more difficult with bound wrists but I somehow manage it. "Hey what you doing?" asks Dubrovsky and he sounds worried. He should be I am determined to get out of this car and find Peter, and neither him or handcuffs will stop me. "Carla" he says in a warning tone. But I continue with my escape plans. I reach for the door handle and fumble to pull it open.

We fly along the road and leaving only one hand on the steering wheel he reaches for me. His hand claps round my leg and he digs his fingers in. I glare at him, slightly shocked by his behaviour but he is frowning terribly at me, another look of warning that I had better not do something stupid. The wind catches the door, taking me by surprise and almost rips it from its hinges, taking me with it as I hold it tight.

This causes me to be half hanging out of the car, a helpful start to my plans though. Thank god my legs aren't bound it would be a lot more difficult if they were but this is tricky enough as it is. I look down and see the tarmac racing below us, but I have no choice, I am going to have to step out of the car and just hope for the best. I keep a tight grip on the door as the wind rushes over and around my body. It takes all the strength I have but somehow I manage to hang on and I raise my right leg and hang it just out side the car. I know it is a risk what with me still being strapped to the explosive but assume seeing as the timer has beeped and I hope finished, it will not be an issue.

"Carla!" Dubrovsky shouts in warning as his fingers tighten their grip once more on my left leg.

I take one long, last deep breath before lowering my foot to the ground and praying I will be able to launch myself forward. The car slows but only a little and as I take one last glance at Dubrovsky before pushing off I see his hand slipping from the wheel. This is my time, my foot hits the ground and I attempt to launch myself forward.

"Shit" he yells and the car swerves awkwardly, I go flying and luckily brush along the side of it. As I roll awkwardly to one side I thank god I wasn't sucked under the car. Finally coming to a stop I lay still and pant awkwardly for breath, pain radiates through my body and I scream through gritted teeth with every twinge. I listen as the car screeches to a stop but the engine continues to purr away.

Lifting my head slightly from the ground I see Dubrovsky racing over to me. I scramble and kick hard against the ground trying to get myself up before he reaches me but a heavy weight pushes me down. Suddenly I realise he is here, on top of me pinning me to the ground. I attempt to struggle against him but find myself failing miserably.

"What were you thinking?" he shouts as he pushes the side of my face violently into the frozen ground.

I groan and struggle some more but do not answer his question as he doesn't deserve to know. The fire crackles and continues to cause explosions in the background and I can't help of think of poor Peter, stuck in there struggling to escape, or hurt somewhere slowly dying. Tears prick my eyes at the latter of my thoughts and it makes me fight harder.

Dubrovsky huffs and puffs but pulls me back awkwardly as he rises and takes me with him. I scream and cry with pain as he pulls me up onto my feet, for which I should thank him. Doing the only thing I can to get free of him I quickly push my arms back, jabbing him in the ribs with my elbows. It works and he lets go but I feel myself falling forward. I cannot be in that vulnerable position again and so attempt to steady myself. Finding my balance I start to run, well more of a quick walk but I make my way towards the flaming building.

Again he's not far behind me and with every glance over my shoulder I see him gaining on me. "Leave me alone!" I scream hoping he'll back off but suspecting that is very unlikely. I carry on, pressing forward and trying my best to forget the pain. I'm hurrying towards the building desperate to find Peter, help him, save him maybe and just be with him.

As I grow closer and start breathing in the fumes and smoke created by the fire I begin to choke, it stops me momentarily as my eyes water and I struggle to breathe. My throat has run dry and I try once to call Peter's name but find myself mute. "Peter!" I call again my voice strained and barely audible this time. I take a few more steps further and into the outskirts of the blaze. "Peter!" I call out again in my strained voice, this time coughing and choking on the freshly inhaled flames.

I glance over my shoulder hoping that Dubrovsky hasn't been stupid enough to follow me and luckily I see he is keeping his distance. I continue to call Peter's name, straining my voice until I am incapable of anymore and running out of fresh air. I am getting no response and begin to fear the worst, he is still in there I'm certain of it but can I risk going any further.

I cough violently whilst contemplating whether I should or not, it should be an easy decision but I can't see far inside and surely I will burn to death if I get stuck. On the other hand I suppose that is a small price to pay to be with Peter. I take in a deep breath, aware that the majority of what I have inhaled is not good for me and is mostly smoke from the fire.

I step over some debris and feel the heat of the now closer flames. I'm dripping with sweat having only been within the fire for a matter of minutes. I cry out again in pain as I feel the heat eating away at me, the things I do for Peter, it's unbelievable! "Peter!" I scream out hoping he'll hear me and call me in his direction.

"Carla! Carla don't" I hear faint shouts from behind as I disappear further into the building and just assume it is Dubrovsky. I can't resist one last look back though and decide I'll give him a smile, let him know I cannot be stopped and I will find the man I love. But my eyes widen in shock when I see who has actually called after me, I stand rooted to the spot, wanting to turn and run. There is a sudden loud crack and something above me falls blocking my exit as it burns and is eaten by fresh flames.

"Carla!" he screams.


	88. Chapter 88

I find myself bent double, choking on the smoke I'm inhaling from the fire. The heat has become intense, practically eating away at me and I hiss and groan in pain as I feel it attacking my skin. The metal on the handcuffs is heating up also, burning into my wrists but slowly expanding which helps. Wood and glass continue to burn, fall and shatter all around me and I find myself ducking in an attempt to shield myself further.

Through the roaring of the flames I can hear faint voices and sirens way off in the distance.

"Let go of me I'm going to get her. Carla, Carla"

"Leave it she's gone, come on leave it!"

"Carla, Carla! Let me go" is the last faint shout I hear.

I can't stay here in this space I can feel myself suffocating and I must move but where. All around me the building is caving in blocking possible routes of escape with burning debris. I look around desperately, praying for a gap or a clearway I can get through easily. The sirens seem louder but it is hard to tell as the fire roars more and more furiously with everything in its path it is eating away at. It is difficult to see far now through the smoke and I can only see faintly what looks almost a clear path.

The smoke upsets my eyes, drying them out and causing them to sting painfully. I blink rapidly to try and clear them but it just makes them feel worse. My coughs have developed into more of a violent choking as I continue to suffocate and with this I decide I must try and find my way to a clearer space with cleaner air but that looks as though I'm going to have go further into the wreckage to find it.

"Carla…"

"Carla…"

"Carla!"

I hear that faint voice again, it sounds like Peter calling after me and I'm sure it was him I saw earlier, stood just behind Dubrovsky as I had disappeared behind the falling debris. There was no way, even when he'd called after me that I could have moved quickly enough to escape, but how did he get out there?

I take a few steps forward trying not to inhale any more fumes, but it is proving impossible and as I make my way shuffling along I continue to cough and choke as I breathe in a further lungful of smoke. Suddenly I'm blinded by ash and smoke as another part of the building falls away from the shell and drops down blocking what was the only clear way.

It only just misses me and I feel myself becoming light headed and terribly drowsy. I stumble about in the small space in which I'm stood and then suddenly fall forward as I lose my balance. My hands reach out and land on some smouldering rubble, I let out a silent scream as the heat of it burns my palms but I can't seem to remove my hands. Officially now starved of breath and with no oxygen present for me to breathe I find myself falling. I am unable to stop myself and I collapse awkwardly onto the rubble beneath me hitting my head. Through blurry vision I look up and see everything moving above me, with my last breath I call out for Peter.

I come round and hear voices shouting faintly, but my vision is still blurred and as I look around I see the flames still eating away at whatever is in their way. There is a searing heat all around me and I can feel a strange sensation on my stomach. It's painful but I lift my head to determine what it is. The surrounding heat is still causing me to have a pouring sweat that covers my entire body and has soaked my clothes but it has done worse, it has started to melt the explosive, mostly at the corners but it is dripping and binding with the fibres of my clothes. It sets me into a state of panic, I'm sure it'll only have to meet with the smallest of flames to ignite.

"Hello" I hear the faint voice call out but find myself drifting back into the state of unconsciousness.

I try to speak out but it only results in a fit of coughing again. I drowsily roll my head from side to side trying to find my state of full consciousness. It can't be the firemen who have ventured inside because I do not hear the sound of fire extinguishers or heavy boots, so who could it be?

I hear more creaking in the ruins above me and then there is another cloud of dust as something falls covering my body and causing me to attempt to scream in pain. It isn't loud but obviously catches the attention of whoever has come in search of me. I moan as my body aches from the impact and I lie helplessly; breathing in nothing but the dust and hot, dry air that lingers in the atmosphere.

"Carla" I hear the worried voice call and know instantly it is familiar but too faint to be clear as to whose.

I continue with my feeble moans and coughs hoping that they will hear and it appears to be working as their footsteps grow louder and louder. But with it comes an aggressive coughing and string of loud groans symbolising that they to are in pain. The voice calls out my name a few more times in between coughs and pauses to listen for any reply. I try my best to alert them to my presence but I cannot get any words out for my choking.

"Carla, where are you?" screams the voice and I recognise it as Peter's.

I feel a sudden rush of relief, he came, came to find me even though he was warned not to and he has risked his life as I was doing for him. I look back to where I had come from and hope to see him, catch his attention. I'm fighting with every last bit of strength to stop myself falling back into my state of unconsciousness of which I am currently slipping.

I see him hurrying towards me as his eyes meet mine half closed when I start to drift. He shouts my name as he battles through the flames and smouldering ruins, desperate to get to me before I do so.


	89. Chapter 89

Coughing and spluttering I find myself regaining consciousness, but instantly feel uncomfortable when I begin to feel the sensation of heat and get mouthfuls of the still smoky, dry air. As my eyes blink open I see Peter hovering over me, he has me cradled in his arms, holding me in a most protective way. He isn't looking down at me though, his head is moving round, looking about and he coughs violently as he does so.

It doesn't even come to his attention I am awake and I wait patiently, wriggling slightly within his arms and hoping he'll notice soon. The fumes from the fire have grown stronger and stronger as have their master. I can't stop myself from coughing on what I am breathing in as I feel it slowly coating my mouth and blocking my airway. The sound of my coughing alerts him instantly and he turns his full attention to me.

I look at him through a faint haze and his eyes are red, watery and blood shot, no doubt an irritation from the smoke. His skin look's patchy and he is sweating buckets just like me. I feel his breath, almost as hot as the flames as he coughs and splutters over me.

"Are you ok baby?" he asks in a strained voice.

I nod but honestly Peter what a stupid question, I mean he's staring at me, covered in rubble, sweating and slowly burning to death all because of him. Do I really look okay? I feel myself getting agitated and wound up, driving myself crazy at the thought we're only in this mess because off him. Why couldn't I think of this before stepping into the burning building to save his life?

"I'm going to try and get you out Carla, he's a horrible man that Officer, he told the firemen no-one was in here. That's why I had to come and get you," he explains

I'm shocked by that, he wanted to leave me to burn to death, but why, what did I do to him? A tear escapes my eyes, no idea how because they are so dry but it has found a way and it runs down my cheek, merging into the beads of sweat that adorn my cheek.

I wince as he brushes the rubble from my body but he hurries himself, not taking care around the wires at all as he seems desperate to get us away and safe from harm. In seconds he has cleared most of it only leaving the dust that clings to my clothes, dirtying them. Peter wraps his arms around my body and starts to lift me from where I lay until I cry out in pain.

He holds me momentarily but then lays me back down carefully before coughing further when he goes to speak. His face shows an expression of worry and he knows there is something wrong but neither of us is in a fit state to talk. Trying his best he looks round my body and quickly checks both of his hands for blood, twisting them to see if anything glistens in the dim glow of the flames. When he looks at his left he examines it much longer and his expression changes.

"What's wrong?" I cough out in a terribly weak voice.

"Nothing" Peter answers just a weakly back. But I know he is lying, his face and behaviour says it all, but this is no time to argue. He smiles and starts to lift me again, I abstain from crying out and grit my teeth so as to not let on to Peter the real amount of pain I am in. Once fully lifted from the wreckage in which I laid seconds ago Peter attempts to stand me on my feet so he can clear a path.

I'm very unstable and could very happily give in to the pain and let it buckle me, but Peter would worry and if he worries to much about me neither of us will get out alive. For now I just have to grin and bare it. He moans in pain as he lifts smouldering lumps of wood, concrete and other materials to clear a path. I wince, feeling his pain as he throws each piece to one side until the remains are enough to step over.

He reaches behind him for my hand, searching for it blindly until our fingertips meet and he grasps my hand tightly. He is first to step over, still coughing and struggling for breath, as am I. The blaze has died down a bit causing the heat to be less intense than it was but still I think this is the hottest I have ever been. In fact it is worse, much worse than the flames I endured when Tony set my factory alight!

Peter helps me over and then we both look round searching frantically for a way out. This area is not much better but the impact of the explosion cannot yet have ripped throughout the entire building surely. If we press on we may just make it to an area where freedom and escape of the wreckage are possible. But with my wounds and both our systems now heavily filled with the fumes we have inhaled, there isn't much hope but we must stay determined and positive.

I'm a dead weight to Peter and as the pain becomes unbearable I find myself becoming slower and slower. Peter is feeling the effect and stops to check me over. We have come to a point, where smoke seems to be all that has invaded so far and I guess this means we are nearer safety. Peter must assume the very same thing as he smiles and reassures me we can't have much further left.

Once I have managed to convince him that I am okay, he insists on trying to help me but we find this much more of a struggle because of the handcuffs. He wraps an arm around me and helps me to hobble on a little further before we meet another of these toughened glass doors, sealing us from the rest of the building and preventing us from progressing when we find it is locked.


	90. Chapter 90

Peter instantly looks disheartened and as if he is about to give up all hope but there is a corridor to our right and it looks clear and open despite slowly beginning to fill with smoke. The fire roars, the flames creeping closer and closer to us again as they continue to devour the fresh wreckage they have found. The area is beginning to fill with that suffocating heat and smoke and it again causes irritation of my eyes.

Peter has sunk to the floor beside me, slumped against the glass leaving me to do any future thinking, so much for coming to rescue me, it now looks like its down to me to do the rescuing. I reach down for his hand but he knocks mine away. The fire has crept further towards us and suddenly I find we are in a cloud of thick, fog like smoke. It leaves me unable to see a thing, not even Peter who I assume is still on the floor beside me.

I try to fan it with my hand, disperse it so I can maybe see the clearer exit I had been able to see only moments ago. It works but only temporarily and is just enough for me to see the fire has spread to where was clear and is climbing the walls rapidly.

"Peter? Come on" I order bravely lowering myself slowly to the ground to have a better attempt at reaching out for him. I find his arm and clasp it tight with both of mine and then attempt to pull him to his feet. He's a dead weight, stubborn and unwilling to do as I advise. The thought runs through my mind that perhaps I should just leave him here and save myself if he is going to be so stupid.

"Please" I beg in a strained and choked voice as I use all my strength to try and lift him but he pulls against me, causing me to fall onto him in a most ungraceful manner. Through my stomach I feel a twinge, like a small electric shock and it causes me to shiver. It worries me because at first I am unsure of from where it came but when it happens again I see one of the wires on my body spark.

"Peter?" my voice wobbles as I look up to him for support.

"What?" he snaps, clearly choking on a fresh mouthful of smoke. I can tell by the tone of his voice he is agitated but he isn't the one who needs to worry right now I am. It crackles and another of the wires sparks, this time sending a more violent shock through me. I wince at the sensation, it is such a strange feeling against my skin, but I know it is not a good sign.

When I finally make eye contact with him, his expression softens. My eyes stare at him, watery and ready to erupt with a fresh flow of tears. Only now does he seem to snap out of his mood and realise the severity of the situation. Straightening up he grasps both my arms tightly and examines me, whilst he does this I find myself jumping as small shocks crawl across my body. Then one of the wires sparks again catching Peter's eye.

He looks confused but I know we are both thinking the same, I am in real danger now, and whatever sets this off has been triggered. We need to get out now, hope we can settle it again and I'm guessing its not helping that the explosive has begun melting!

Letting go of me he rises to his feet, coughing and spluttering as he looks round through the hazy remains of the smoke. The path I had seen earlier still looks relatively clear, he reaches down and takes my hand pulling me hard up onto my feet and then continuing to pull me behind him. Marching down the corridor he keeps looking back over his shoulder to give me a reassuring smile.

As we reach the end of the corridor we are almost free of the flames, smoke and haze and it is a relief to be breathing cleaner air. But suddenly we can hear a ticking, a sound more familiar to my ear than Peter's, as I know I have heard it before, but suddenly struggling to place where. Peter's reaction is much quicker than mine and he throws me forward, ripping the jacket from my shoulders, it's clearly fused with the melted explosive and he gingerly tries to prise them from one another.

I begin shaking like a leaf, but not thinking about what Peter is doing because I'm too busy worrying about the delicate state of the explosive and the prospect that I could be non-existent any second. I'm oblivious to anything Peter is doing as I find myself lost in fears but upon hearing him gasp I'm suddenly snapped back to reality. I feel the jacket back against my skin as he lets go and obviously steps back. I turn back to face him, desperate to know what is wrong but upon seeing his face I think I know.

"Is it the timer?" I ask in a shaky voice.

Peter remains mute but as he begins to well up he nods in answer to my question. I'm not as shocked as I had thought but I am scared, just as scared, as I was the first time I had known it was ticking. I wait for Peter to make a move, I need him to think of something but I'm guessing I will have to save myself. He looks as pale as ghost and as if he is going to be sick.

I rack my brains trying to think how I can get these stupid things off me, if I'm free of them I won't have to worry. Tony used to watch loads of programmes on a Sunday about how things like this worked and stuff, figures, should have known he was a psychopath from that alone. He used to sit on the edge of the sofa, eyes fixed upon the television, rarely blinking and transfixed by the pixellated images in front on him.

This is no time for thinking about Tony though but I can't seem to shake the thoughts, I remember this one Sunday in particular. I interrupted him and he turned to me, looking furious, raging in fact and it frightened me so much I shut up instantly, folded my arms in a defiant stand and stormed off back to the bedroom. But what was it he was watching? I will myself to remember, anything an image or something that was said but I'm struggling. For one second I wish I was here with him, he would've had a perfect idea how to get this off, he'd probably break the cuffs somehow and lift it all over my head, if only were that simple.


	91. Chapter 91

Then it hits me; maybe it is as simple as that. All Peter and I need to do is find something that can split the bar on the cuffs and we're away. I look up at him and smile, it makes him chuckle and as he finishes his mouth forms the most adorable smile.

"What are you thinking baby?" he asks in a curious tone.

I feel the excitement build, as the prospect of being relived from these goddamned cuffs becomes reality and can't contain it any longer. I explain to Peter what I'm thinking and my plan.

"If we can just break the cuffs Peter, we can lift the explosive over my head. I'll be free of them and we can just get away" My voice comes over in a desperate tone, but I'm sure of my plan.

Peter nods in understanding and agreement and then looks around hurriedly. As he does the wires spark again, this time sending an intense shock through me that causes me to cry out at the agony. Waves of electricity suddenly start flowing through my body as the wires begin to spark one after another. Peter suddenly runs past me as I double over in pain and returns seconds later. I look up and see him holding an axe. He must have spotted it at a fire point.

"Lay your hands out in front of you Carla, on the floor" he orders.

I do as he says and wonder how this will help, if he's going to try and split the cuffs with that he better have bloody good aim because I don't want to lose a hand! I shut my eyes and screw them up tight, then take one last deep breath as Peter reassures himself this is easy and he can do this. I hold my breath and wait nervously, still shaking with my nerves right on edge as I continue to be slowly electrocuted.

"Ready Carla, when I get to three, that's when I'm going to do it. One…Two…Three…"

There is and loud ringing as the metal of the axe blade meets the cuffs and then a loud crack as it makes its impact upon the marble floor. All I can hear is Peter deeply breathing and I don't dare look, my eyes are scrunched so tight it hurts and that is the way they will stay. Peter's breathing begins to regulate and then he laughs, a sound of relief and feeling a bit better and braver I open up my eyes and exhale deeply.

Looking in front of me I can't believe it, the blade of the axe is wedged into the floor and both my hands lay trembling either side of it. My eyes rise further to look at Peter and he is smiling, so proud of himself for being able to do it and my face soon reflect his. He hurries over to me taking both my unbound hands and helps me to my feet.

"How did…what…urm where did you…" I stutter terribly, so relieved that he did it and didn't miss.

"Leanne, she made me watch that Titanic rubbish, it's in there," he answers with a bigger smile, knowing exactly what I was trying to say. He is lucky he's in the process of saving my life or I'd kill him for bringing 'her' up!

"Now what?" he asks me excitedly.

"Urm…urr…we need to lift the explosive over my head" I explain stuttering and trailing the end of my sentence when I'm hit with a fresh set of shockwaves. Peter agrees and then slips my jacket from my shoulders, he struggles pulling it over the cuffs still attached to my wrists like cold metallic bangles but eventually he manages to rid me of it. It has remains of the melted explosive to it as he casts it off too one side, leaving it in the path of the now slowly approaching baby flames.

He quickly twirls me again and looks at the timer, good job he has remembered it was ticking because me, I'd completely forgotten. He looks nervous so I'm guessing we don't have long left, it's up to him again now. With a steady hand he is going to have to lift it all over my head but seeing as where it has melted it is stuck to my top, it looks as though the whole lot is going to have to go!

"Ready" he asks, holding my arms tightly as he raises them above my head. I take another deep breath and nod, good job I trust him, trust him with my life. He counts to three again as he holds the hem on my camisole and on three begins to peel it up my body. I come face to face with the sparking wires and melted explosive as Peter slowly and carefully pulls the top over my head. I end up screwing my eyes tight again to shield them.

I shudder as my skin becomes exposed to the air, but it is still extremely hot in here and I assume it means the fire is now closer than before and again catching up with us. Having held my breath again, the second Peter tells me the top is gone I let out a long deep breath and instantly clap my arms and hands across my chest in a protective manner. I don't really now why because it's not like Peter hasn't seen it all before.

Slowly I open one eye and then the other when I see Peter standing before me, grinning like a naughty schoolboy. The only difference being he is holding a ladies top strapped to a ticking bomb. I want to laugh back at him, but feeling vulnerable and exposed I find myself unable to respond.

Placing the bomb gently to one side he then saunters back over to me whilst he starts to lift and remove his shirt. If it were in slow motion it would be like one of those movie scenes where the hero gives his jacket to a drenched damsel in distress. Having relieved himself of the t-shirt he rushes to place it over my head and helps me to get dressed, his hands making sure to caress my skin as the cotton falls over it. It drowns me but I am grateful of the gesture, his hands don't leave my body though, they remain upon my hips and suddenly he pulls me in close. Upon my lips he places a most passionate kiss as his hands slip around my body and hold me in a tight embrace.

When he is finally finished with his warm and very welcomed affections, he holds me at arms length and having finally taken control of the situation he looks me square in my eyes. I see him take a deep breath and then smile.

"Ready to run" he says in a most confusing manner.

Why do we need to run? I don't get it but I have no time to ask him or contemplate the answer for myself. He grabs my left hand and then pulls me along behind him. Luckily my brain and feet are engaged and manage to realise what they need to do or I would have stumbled terribly. We thunder down the corridor and reach an open, unaffected expanse that resembles a waiting area.

"Get down" Peter shouts as I stand, hands resting on my knees, desperately trying to catch my breath. I turn to look over at him with a look that says _'give us a sec' _but I should have listened. Seconds later there is a blast and it's impact comes racing through the tunnel of a corridor, shattering all the glass and the energy from it is enough to send me flying helplessly back into the far wall.


	92. Chapter 92

Peter has wasted no time in scrambling to his feet and rushing to aid me. I find myself heaped at the bottom of the far wall into which the impact threw me. By some miracle I seem unharmed, not a scratch on me, but my body aches from the force with which I hit it and previous injuries. Reaching down Peter helps get me up and onto my feet and then proceeds to examine me, checking me over not missing a single area.

"Peter, I'm ok, please leave it," I beg hating the fuss he is making.

He smiles and stops instantly realising just how annoying he is being. His hands don't stay off me for long before he is pulling me into the warmest and most familiar embrace. His hands wrap around my frame tightly and squeeze me so tight he almost robs me of my last breath. I struggle against him, pushing him away and not because I don't like it just because I feel extremely claustrophobic and am in desperate need of the oxygen.

"Sorry" he says backing away and holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender whilst giving a small chuckle.

I smile back, trying to quickly inhale fresh air and regulate my breathing and heart rate. Luckily the fire hasn't started ripping it's way through the materials to our safe place. I suddenly feel wary of it though, knowing that just because it hasn't reached us yet doesn't mean it'll hold back forever. After all who is actually looking for us? After that explosion they are going to think that Peter and me are no longer so we can't just stay here and hope to be rescued. Its all up to us now, we are free of the gang members and dodgy officers of the law, all we need to do is find a way home.

"Can we just get out of here?" I cry to him, sounding more desperate than I had hoped.

"Sure Baby, course we can," he answers taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.

The only way out from this room is to exit via the one non-working escalator in the corner that leads to the gate and boarding areas for the burning terminal. We give each other that look and take deep breaths before making our way up to the second floor.

It really is a very strange sensation having to walk up steps that would usually be moving; something about it just never feels right. Upon reaching the top floor, we find we have several options. Three or four tunnels lead off out at different gates, but to escape via one of them is impossible, or we can make our way through this terminal and hope that one further along the building will lead us to a better exit.

Looking back we seem to have made the choice to climb up to the gates just in time, the waiting area below we had come to originally is filled with a thick, smog like smoke and slowly it is rising. Quickly thinking things over between ourselves we decide to take our chances and make our way across the floor to the corridor opposite that will lead us away.

I have been to many airports in my time but have never realised just how maze like they are. It's much easier to navigate your way through when you have a gate number and signs to guide you. This is much harder, the fire and explosions have caused the power to cease and so we find ourselves lost and seeping into murky surroundings. The further into the building we venture the more lost we find ourselves as it is becomes darker as the day begins to come to an end.

If we are not careful we'll find ourselves cornered and unable to escape as we have planned. Luckily we have managed to out run the smoke for now but I know it won't be long until it catches us again. I try hard to think of a way out, you know where would be best for a quick escape and be rid of the building. Free and ready to run for real. Because we are on a second floor I know we don't have much option unless we can get back down to ground floor, luckily in the far corner are a set of stairs.

At first I think them strange, they seem oddly placed but am thankful for them as I explain to Peter they probably lead to a fire escape or something like that. Surely it's worth investigating especially if it leads to the ground floor. Peter to my surprise agrees with me and we hurry over to them. They descend into darkness but just at the bottom I can see the faint glow of green light, an emergency light! This is exactly what we need, it will hopefully lead us to an emergency exit and that'll be it, we'll be out there in the freezing cold Russian night air, alone and lost needing to find our way home.

Peter practically runs down the stairs, he is so positive with what I have told him could happen if this is the exit I hope. I'm not far behind him, rushing as quickly as my body will allow. I refuse to tell Peter but I have terrible aches and pains throughout my body, but I do not want him to worry about me. When he does we usually end up worse off, for now he is better focused on getting us out of this country.

Failing miserably I wince as I remove myself from the last step. Looking up I see we have plunged ourselves into complete darkness, the only light now the glow from the green light, but it doesn't provide enough for us to be able to see one another. I scream as something brushes against the skin of my arm and then here a hushing noise.

"Hey baby, it's only me" comes Peter's voice in a whisper.

It scared me so much, I can hear and feel my heart beating ten to the dozen. He slips his hand around mine and gives it a tight squeeze. Then whispering again he asks me if I'm ready and when I reply yes quietly he starts leading me down the cold, dark corridor. We seem to travel through it for ages until Peter comes to a sudden halt. Letting go of my hand I sense him move forward ever so slightly and the next thing I know the small space has more light, an amber glow if you will and I can see a shadowy Peter in front of me.

I smile, the biggest grin I have managed this whole adventure. The sense of achievement is overwhelming and I throw myself at Peter, ignoring the pain I feel, falling onto his arms and wrapping my arms around his body so tightly.

We did it; we found a way to be free.


	93. Chapter 93

The warm Spanish sunshine pours in from the window it's bright welcoming beams blinding me as I wake from my slumber. I haven't rested this well since before we left for Lanzarote, in fact since before my attack. Turning away from the sunshine I turn to face Peter. He looks so peaceful sleeping, the rays of bright sunshine not affecting him as always.

I nestle into the crisp white sheets and soft pillow on the hotel bed, smiling to myself feeling blissfully happy. As I lay there I think about all the drama and action Peter and I have encountered in the last two and a half months. All that action is enough to make a Hollywood blockbuster but no one will ever believe us. It leads me thinking back to other past events and I suddenly feel the happiness I was feeling slip away.

Everything that has happened in my past begins to play quickly in an out of order on loop before settling on just a few memories. I close my eyes as the vivid images begin. They start with memories of Liam, his rugged good looks and bright blues eyes shining and burning their ghostly image into my mind. I find myself slipping into the warm and welcomed memory of him holding me tight, soaked through from the rain that first night he came back to my flat and made me feel wanted, needed and ever so loved.

I continue to think of him and can literally feel him holding me tight, wrapped in a loving embrace, his hands softly stroking my skin and suddenly I feel my cheeks flush when the memories of mine and Liam's most intimate moments surface. God I loved him so much. Beneath my closed eyelids I feel tears forming, tears I always seem to develop when I get to the morbid stages of our relationship. I've never gotten over the fact the last words I spoke to him were so cold and hard and then one single tear escapes, running down and off my warm pink cheek. It is closely followed by another and then another and before I know it I'm in floods of tears as see that image of Liam. The cold dark street, damp and covered in puddles where it has rained and his lifeless body, pale and cold just lies there.

I see Maria hovering and fussing over him and remember the feelings I had that very second. I was speechless, falling just as lifelessly at the side of Michelle's body as my hand gently slipped from hers and I covered my face in shock struggling to hold it together and breathe. I was so tempted to just run to him, hold him tight and tell him how sorry I was and that I didn't mean what I had said. Lost in the vivid memory I call out _'I love you Liam, I do' _

I find myself suddenly awoken at the realisation that I have just uttered those words from my lips, just centimetres from Peter. I suddenly feel scared and hope he didn't hear me. Turning my head vigorously I turn to glare in Peter's direction, luckily he's still sleeping peacefully and is blissfully unaware of my declarations towards Liam. I love Peter I know I do but not as much as I loved, no love Liam. I once told Peter that Liam was my life and it was true he was but if I'm honest he is my life, even now. There is not a day I don't walk into that factory and think of him, or stand in my flat wishing him to be the other end of that buzzer. But he's no longer here, it will and can never be thanks to Tony.

Feeling my eyes fill again with water I scrunch them tightly closed and let the tears fall, it's been to long since I cried for Liam and it is long overdue. I try my best not to sob loudly, not wanting to disturb or wake Peter, the last thing I want to do is try to explain this state to him. Too many thoughts begin to rush through my head again, Tony being the first in connection to my tears for Liam. I curse him everyday for what he did, he took away my life and I never got it back, well not properly anyway. But Tony, now that I could deal with, I was never scared of him and his psychotic schemes but Frank, now that's the one memory that never fails to break me down and destroy me further. To add to all this I now have the dramatic passed two months to deal with as well. Maybe I should write a book, Carla Connors nightmares I think sarcastically to myself then everyone could be haunted by the traumatic events that have made me the fragile stranger we all know me as today.

I have Frank to thank for that; he was a sick, evil twisted man, worse than Tony ever was when I think about it. When I think about what he… No I have to stop myself if I start to think about Frank I'll… and that's it I'm transported instantly back to that moment, there I stand face to face with my rapist in my flat knowing exactly what will happen and unable, powerless to stop him.

My eyes remain shut tight, I can't seem to open them they provide the screen on which I will watch myself be bought to my knees and hurt by a man I trusted. It replays, vivid in detail and all my senses are on high alert as I feel his strength when he grabs my arm, twisting me round and slamming into the door. The sensation of the impact feels so real that I flinch and can feel the nervous sweat developing on my skin just as it had that day. The feel of his warm breath on my skin sets the tears flowing hard and fast and unable to control them I await the inevitable. I see myself; breathing heavily and staring into his eyes that are twinkling with the excitement he is feeling at having me at his mercy, the fiesty and strong Carla Connor unable to stop the powerful Frank Foster.

My breathing is mirroring that of my memory and as I feel his lips upon mine I feel suffocated, desperate to cry out for him to stop but muted. I flinch again as he throws me down onto the hard floor of my flat and starts to relieve himself of his belt. He's like an animal, rough and uncaring as he robs me of what is not his to take.

Lying in the sweat soaked sheets I feel my entire body trembling but in my visions Frank is the focus of my attention, as I lie staring at his shiny black dress shoes aware he is hovering over me. He is either waiting for me to pick myself up off the floor and attack him or get up and apologise, get married and be at his beck and call but when I don't move I know he's panicked.

I know what's coming next and feeling completely violated again I await that haunting sentence that plays so regularly in my head. It creeps up on me mostly when I'm alone, or when I try to go to sleep.

'_It's your fault, you made me do it'_

Upon hearing his voice says those words, my eyes fly open and I cry harder and faster than I was when re-watching the horrific ordeal. I scream, nothing makes any sense and my fists fly through the air trying to fight away the demons.

"Hey Baby, Carla come here, come here" I hear a soothing voice.

Peter has sat bolt upright, fighting desperately to keep my flailing arms at bay whilst he attempts to comfort me. I'm dazed, transfixed on a vivid image of Frank, he is there standing smugly at the foot of the bed, laughing at me and taunting me with that evil smirk. I can't contain my emotion and it takes all the strength Peter has to hold me back and stop me from harming myself.

"Carla" he snaps firmly trying to snap me back to reality.


	94. Chapter 94

Panting hard I fall under his arm and against the soft skin of his chest burying my head into it and sobbing uncontrollably. He comforts me gently, stroking my hair and with soothing tones attempts to calm me as my heart continues to beat erratically and my gasps for breath matching in pace. I sniffle and try to fight back further tears as I feel myself returning to a calmer state of mind.

Peter is still hovering and cooing over me whilst he holds me in his tight grasp. I seem to have lost all emotion I had felt and pull myself back and away from Peter, slowly turning my head to see if that image of Frank that frightened me is still stood at the foot of the bed. I take a deep breath and stare hard at the remaining ghostly image, I can't believe I can still see him in my conscious state.

I want to scream but don't dare, I don't want Peter to worry, we've only been here a day and if he doesn't think I'm ok he'll fuss not getting any rest himself. He shuffles up the bed and gently places his hands on my shoulders, making me jump nervously just a little.

"Carla?" he questions, obviously surprised at my reaction.

Alerting myself, I peel my eyes from the image of Frank only I can see and turn to Peter. He is frowning confused by my out of character behaviour and when he sees me he softens his expression. I can feel the tears reforming along the brim of both my eyes and I really do want nothing more than to tell him, Frank has returned to haunt me but I just know I can't. What both Peter and I need is a break, the holiday and time away we originally came for and whilst I'm reliving my nightmares, if he has to deal with them to neither of us will get from this trip what we came for.

"Carla, what's wrong?" Peter starts and before I can think of an answer he continues "Don't try to hide things from me baby, if something is wrong, I want to know, I need to know?" he pleads.

I nod in understanding of his statement and questions trying desperately to hide behind a brave face but my bottom lip begins quivering and the first tear falls. It runs quickly down my cheek and then in no time at all is followed by another and another. Peter reacts quickly pulling me into another warm and welcoming hug, offering encouragement and telling me everything will be ok, but he doesn't know that, he has no idea what I'm going through.

He doesn't let go of me until I have once again finished crying, then holding me back at arms length he demands I tell him what is upsetting me so much. When we finally arrived yesterday afternoon in Spain he assumed I was happy but the truth of it was I was only relieved to be away from Russia and all the trouble. Happiness is something I only feel once in a blue moon at special moments and the rest of the time I just see negative and have a serious case of the _'mean reds' _as Holly Golightly would say. God I hate Michelle for making me watch that film when I were married to Paul, on one dreary, winter Sunday afternoon whilst the boys had disappeared to the pub.

"It's urm….urrr….it's" I stammer turning away from Peter and looking back to Frank's ghostly figure. He still stands smug and tall, smiling sweetly and his eyes twinkling at me with a hint of mischief. _'Carla' _he speaks in a whisper and it causes me to scream hysterically, flinging myself forward and almost falling from the bed as I reach out to try and hammer him away with my fists.

"Leave me alone! Leave me please, leave me Frank!" I scream louder when I fail to disperse his image.

Peter holds me back in his strong arms, fighting with me to pull me back onto the bed and when I have given up and used all my energy trying to fight the now more intense image of Frank, he succeeds. I bounce hitting the mattress and feeling so over emotional and frustrated at the hold Frank still has on me that I pummel with closed fists on the mattress below me.

Peter doesn't have to say a word, he knows that Frank has returned, only in my head, in his private playground once more, tormenting me and haunting me terribly. Placing his arm across me he squeezes me tightly and offers his comforting words again.

"Baby, he can't hurt you" he reassures, forcing himself to hold me still.

Taking deep breaths I try to speak, explain to Peter what is happening and the goings on inside my head. I tell him how I can see Frank, standing there taunting me, telling me this is all my own fault and that he is going to hurt me again because I'm powerless to stop him. I blurt it all out not caring to stop and take a breath. Getting upset as I speak I find my body and mind getting worked up into a right state again, to the point Peter has to fight me to calm me again.

It's a relief to have told him, but he can't protect me from Frank, he's in there settled quite comfortably in my mind and he will remain there till the day I die. Peter squeezes me gently, and then looks round the room, which to him is empty. He knows I will be the only one who can see him and I know he's lying when he tells me he can see him and he'll deal with this.

He leaves me alone in the bed and he reaches for a towelling robe hanging in a wardrobe fixture on the hotel wall. He rushes back over to the bed and my side, where I lay feeling vulnerable beneath the screwed up messy sheet. Pulling it back, he reveals my naked body trembling again with fear as I keep my eyes fixed on Frank. The situation makes me feel uneasy and if truth were told I don't want to leave this bed because I've scared myself beyond belief.

Peter slides an arm beneath me and then helps to slide my arms into the robe as he wraps it around me. Making me place an arm around his neck he lifts me from the bed and places me on my feet. My legs almost give way beneath me and he just about catches me before I fall. Giving me some encouragement he urges me to leave with him and treating me the way you would a frightened child, he throws an arm around me, protecting me from Frank but my eyes don't leave him until we have exited the room and the door is closed trapping him inside I hope.


	95. Chapter 95

Peter pulls out my chair and waits for me to take my seat at the table in the over crowed breakfast dining room. I smile weakly at him as his hand brushes down my arm when he walks away from the table over to the buffet. I watch him as he takes two plates and starts to fill them with whatever is there to be taken. Eventually my eyes wander, nervously glancing around the room over all the people. I feel lost, an insignificant, unimportant little person sat amongst the masses of British tourists munching ignorantly on there breakfasts.

Feeling the need to retreat I slink down and bury myself as far into my chair as it will allow. I swallow hard and take in one last sweep of the dining area. Only I know what I'm looking for but I sense him, I sense him watching me. A tall man with dark hair sweeps effortlessly through the crowd and for one minute I mistake him for Liam, wanting to call out but when he turns round I feel disappointed at the sight of a stranger.

The clattering of a plate in front of me brings me back to the here and now, taking my mind off the fact I feel Frank is watching me. Peter takes his place opposite me and I find myself staring idly at him as he tucks into his food, he devours it ever so quickly. I suppose he is hungry though, we haven't eaten properly in weeks, in fact the last time I ate was back at the mansion but Peter I am unsure how long he has starved. He suddenly stops shovelling his food and looks up at me, whilst chewing the mouthful he has. With his mouth still half full he frowns and then opens his mouth to speak.

"Carla, eat something baby" he says, looking down at the plate of food he collected for me.

I should be starving, same as him and the plate of food looks so wonderful and colourful but I can't bring myself to touch it. Something about that image of Frank has completely dissolved my appetite. Peter looks at me with that confused expression again, obviously not understanding why I can't bring myself to eat. He wills me on encouragingly as I lift a piece of toast and take the smallest bite I can just to humour him.

He smiles satisfied that I am eating again and turns back to his plate of food. The instance I am no longer the focus of his attention I drop the toast back on the plate and reach for my coffee. The aroma of it I would usually find heavenly but right now it is just making me feel ill. Feeling desperately dehydrated I lift it with my trembling hand and attempt to get it to my lips but as I do I slip and the hot liquid falls down my body and the towelling robe. Taken by surprise and shocked at what I've done I leap from my seat and knock most of the table contents onto the floor.

"Carla!" Peter cries out, his voice emitting worry.

I can't take the pressure anymore everyone is starring at me and the mess I have accidentally made. Hotel staffs have come running to our aid, scooping the mess from the floor and dabbing me down with a towel. I push their hands away and run as quickly as I can from the scene, Peter not far behind me. Reaching the hotel lobby I stop and fall back against one of the walls. Breaking down I feel myself sliding down it until I hear and feel myself hit the cold stone tiled flooring with a thud.

I sharply inhale and exhale breaths in a desperate attempt to calm myself before Peter reaches me. I hate him seeing me like this, he doesn't need my drama he really doesn't and he has been so good to me, so patient. I hear footsteps on the floor and instantly wipe away my tears and sniff loudly in defence to stop any developing further. He calls my name as he runs into the vast expanse of the lobby, and then when he doesn't see me before him he turns quickly.

His eyes lock with mine and he rushes over to me, taking my upper arms in his hands and pulling me in close. I let my legs curl in and round beneath me as he pulls me to him and rocks me gently in a comforting manner. He strokes my hair and holds me tightly reassuring me that everything is ok and that it was only an accident. I pull away and apologise in a meek tone for my behaviour. Peter gives a confused frown and shakes his head.

"Wasn't your fault baby" he states.

His words are warm and comforting and still holding me tight he lifts me to my feet. Wrapping his arms around me he walks me back to the room, the haunted room where I fear Frank is waiting for me, but I don't want to be here where everyone is staring at the strange, distressed women. I mean they're probably all thinking _'who cries over a spilt cup of coffee' _That would be me since I was knocked down a peg or two by a monster, that's who!

Opening the door up Peter waits for me to step inside. I hesitate and peer inside the room, checking it thoroughly for any signs of Frank. He doesn't appear to be there but I still feel nervous upon entering. The room feels chilly and cold and makes me shiver as Peter walks me back to bed and throws back the fresh sheet to allow me to climb in. I settle down into the pillow and he strokes my hair gently as I close my eyes and begin to drift off.

My peaceful sleep doesn't last long before I see Frank's face before my eyes. The images begin to disturb me deeply flashing quickly before my eyes, I can feel my eyelids twitching at the movement of my eyes beneath as they flit from left to right as I watch Frank circling around me like a vulture. We're back there and I am once again powerless to control the outcome. My breathing has turned heavy and increased in speed as I feel him push himself against me, taking my chin in his firm grip he pushes his lips onto mine, suffocating me.

The sensation of it is so real and I find my eyes fly open whilst I gasp for air but next to me I see him lying beside me with a huge smile painted across his face. It sets me into a panic immediately and I jump up from where I lie, grabbing the sheet and pulling it away with me to cover my body and the coffee stained robe.

'_It's your fault. You made me do it' _he says and the words echo around the room and my head sending a violent chill through me. I can't speak, can't breathe and find myself rooted to the spot as he stares me down.

'_Carla'_


	96. Chapter 96

My hand trembles and my knuckles have gone white where I grip the sheet tightly, hugging it as closely to my body as possible as it provides me comfort. Frank has slowly sat up, twisted his legs round and off the bed and risen to his feet. He stands still beside the bed, his eyes piercing mine with a cold, hard demonic stare. Although warm rays of afternoon sunshine poor into the room and bathe my body in their warmth, I'm ice cold, frozen to the core and now feeling terribly unwell. Frank only lift's his arm to rub his temples and it makes me flinch and catch my breath.

Frank always seized every opportunity that presented itself and I don't think he's going to miss any that are up coming. He knows how powerless I am to stop him, how weak I become around him and the tears prick my eyes when he begins approaching me slowly. I'm terrified, you'd think that as I am a grown women I'd know that this is an illusion, a nightmare, Frank is dead he can't hurt me but it's so real, too real.

The sensation of his warm breath hits my cheek, caressing my skin as he rubs his nose slowly up and down the side of my face almost as a sign of affection. I'm paralysed as his hands clap onto my hips and he pulls me in close to him. I need desperately to scream, cry and push him away, to save myself but no, I can't. His lips brush my cheek as they make their way across my face to meet my lips. They suffocate me as he pushes against mine and it makes me sick to my stomach.

I find the reality of it is that I am actually suffocating myself with my torments. But it is just seeing Frank that image of him, it grips me, trances me, confuses me and tortures me, worse than when he was actually alive. My fingers are digging into the sheet so hard they have almost made a hole in it. Frank's hand moves slowly round to my front and then reaching up he grabs my hand, moving it down and the sheet slips away. He then moves his hand just inside the robe as my eyes follow his every move. His fingers gently stroke my skin just above my left breast and I can't stand it for long.

Suddenly I fall and finding my voice I cry out for him to leave me, but he bends down, crouching before me and reaches for me. His fingers don't quite reach and I'm so pleased but keep screaming at him as he tries to stretch closer and closer. The tears start again running hard and fast down my cheeks when he achieves his goal and his fingers I can feel once again upon my skin tickling it gently.

"Leave me alone!" I scream at the top of my voice to the point it's painful but Frank pushes on throwing himself at me, warning me he isn't going to stop this.

'_Its what you deserve Carla, Its what you deserve' _he whispers.

A lump forms in my throat and I swallow hard to try and remove it but find myself failing. I know what's coming and I'm as scared as I was before. Why does he do this to me? I will show him I'm not powerless. I want to fight. I need to fight. Frank's hands grip my upper arms tightly and he tries to force me down to the floor. My mind allows him to succeed and push himself on me, it's telling me this is real and my emotions are set to match. But I'm not powerless I will not put myself through this, I just won't.

As Frank presses on I find myself struggling for breath and at risk of choking on my tears. I close my eyes, scrunching them tight willing the image of him and this entire vivid nightmare to just disappear. But if anything it just makes the whole thing more real. I open my eyes again to see him hovering above me. An evil twinkle in his eyes and demonic expression on his face, he is in control.

Freaking out I push with my hands upwards but just seem to be fighting with air. No matter how hard I fight I can't relieve myself of Franks presence. I want him gone and every time I fling my arms at him he dodges or I miss. It's so upsetting and frustrating that he can have this hold on me and he always wins. He presses on with the attack he has told me I deserve as my screams and cries worsen.

"No, please no, stop!" I cry out as Frank continues, his hands all over my body invading every inch of available skin. My hands push once more against him and suddenly I see him fly backwards. I suddenly feel strong, but still scared and wary of him. I scramble up to my feet hoping I'll be able to run passed him, if I leave this room I will be free of him again. I need to find Peter, I need him to help me. The image of Frank is just as quick to find his feet and like a six foot wall blocks my available route to the door.

'_You can't escape me Carla' _he teases followed by the deepest, hollow laugh he can manage.

"Leave me alone, LEAVE!" I scream at the top of my voice to the point it hurts my throat.

He saunters forward again and the panic sets back in, I reach to my side and grab the first thing my hand reaches. Gripping it tightly I take a deep breath and then pick it up and hurl it forward. The lamp goes right through the image of Frank that continues to make it's way towards me and flies towards the door which appears to be slowly opening.

As it hits the hard surface its shatters and all of a sudden before I can compute what has actually happened I find myself scared and jumpy causing me to retreat into the corner of the room where I cower down and shake violently. Wrapping my arms around my knees I bow my head and stare at the floor

"Carla, what the…?" says a familiar voice.

I can feel my chest rising and falling rapidly and I desperately need to calm down. Strong arms suddenly wrap me in an embrace and having taken me by surprise I look up. Frank's face smiles back at me and I scream but it only causes the arms to restrict me further by tightening their grasp.

"Carla, baby, it's me. It's Peter." He explains in a soothing tone.

"But…but…Fr….Fr..Fran.." I stutter.

Peter's face says it all when I eventually see him when the image of Frank has faded. He knows, he knows exactly what I'm trying to say and sympathy radiates from his expression. He pulls my head close and pins it to his chest, gently stroking my hair to comfort and calm me the best he can.

"He can't hurt you baby" he reassures, but that's a lie.

"He…I…but…he…he can…he can" I cry uncontrollably into Peter's chest. He can't protect me from Frank, no one can. He is firmly rooted in my mind, his own private playground and he will continue to torment me till I'm no longer alive.


	97. Chapter 97

I open my eyes to a blurred vision of Peter, he appears to be speaking to someone on a phone. Organising a trip by the sounds of it. This man is literally full of surprises, he got us out of Russia, he seems to have re-united himself with his mobile in working condition and he seems to have calmed and got me rested just enough to feel better than I did this morning. He's cleverer than he gives himself credit for but a lot of this is down to his stubborn nature. When Peter knows what he wants there is no stopping him. I envy that now, that used to be me.

He turns and catches me watching him, with this he is quick to say goodbye to the voice the other end and upon hanging up licks his lips nervously. He comes over to me and crouches down beside the bed. Slowly he takes one of my hands and holds it gently.

"How do you feel darling?" he asks.

"Ok, can I have a drink?" I ask in my dreary state.

"Sure baby, I'll get you some water" he answers rising slowly to his feet.

I reach out for his wrist and grab it, stopping him and making him sit back down on the edge of the bed beside me. He looks at me confused. So he should he hasn't understood me at all, I asked for a drink not water!

"What is it?" he asks gently.

"I need a drink!" I reply clearly, exaggerating the word drink to make sure he understands me.

Peter looks down at me sympathetically and I know that he means no, he won't give me a drink. But I'm desperate I need that drink, strong emphasis on the word drink there! I turn away from him not wanting to look at that expression, it will make me break down. I know he's right and I know I don't need it but I do. This is all so confusing it makes my head hurt.

He squeezes my hand and I pull it away, snatching it round to place it gently on top of the pillow beside me. Tears form and slowly roll down my cheeks only to be absorbed by the white pillowcase onto which they fall. I try not to sob so as not to make Peter aware of how upset I am. Can't believe I'm crying over not being able to have a drink, guess I'm not over that problem like I'd thought.

"Carla, please" says Peter placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I can't give you a drink sweetheart, you don't need it and it won't help"

Hypocrite is a word that springs to mind. He drinks all the time when the pressure is too much, hell he drinks more than I do. I told him I don't have a problem that day he came in search of me because I walked in on his _'AA' _meeting. I meant what I said that day until I wake up tipping vodka on my cornflakes I have no problem and no I am not in denial.

"What do you know!" I mumble angrily and then throw my face into the pillow, pushing as hard as I can to try and relieve some of my frustration before I get up and go mad at him for trying to help. He tightens his grip on my shoulder and pulls me round onto my back so I'm forced to look up at him.

"Please baby, trust me on this, it won't make those images of Frank go away"

Frank. The mention of his name freezes me and I glare up at Peter. How dare he, how dare he put the thought of that vile man back in my head. Finding a sudden burst of energy and strength I sit up and push Peter off of me. I push him out of my way and hurry out of the bed pacing angrily to the bathroom and slamming the door shut making sure I turn the lock to keep Peter out.

I push my hands down onto the basin and stare at myself in the mirror. I look tired and drawn, my skin with faint bruising has lost it's healthy glow and my eyes are dark and hollow. My raven hair sits tangled and messed up at the sides of my face, proper bed head hair this! I laugh at my self, just a burst. I can't believe this haggled mess is me, Carla Connor!

Outside the door I hear a creak of the floorboards and suddenly feel angry again. Can't Peter just leave me alone for five minutes! I asked for a drink not a lethal injection I can be trusted. Raging I turn on the tap as quickly as I can and water races out of the faucet and splashes up against the basin until it begins to fill. Cupping my hands I throw them directly into the path of the water and collect enough of it in my hands to splash my face.

The cold water is refreshing and I appreciate how wonderful it feels. In fact it really makes me want to just relax in a bath but that would require peace and quiet, which right now is impossible with Peter hovering outside tapping the door and calling my name to see if I'm ok. It can drive a girl to distraction, I go to the door and pull it open so fast Peter almost falls into me.

"What?" I snap, my eyes bursting as they glare at him.

Peter doesn't say anything instead he opens his arms and attempts to give me a hug. I make sure he is unsuccessful by stepping back, folding my arms and then stomping round him back into the main area of the hotel room. Yes I am angry with him, all I want is a drink and I'm guessing I will have to get it myself. Tightening my robe to make sure I'm suitably covered I storm passed Peter and out of the hotel room into the corridor.

I take a deep breath before heading to the hotel bar, it's just a drink and I promise myself it will only be the one, just to calm my nerves. I take a seat on a barstool and the barman gives me a bit of a look before asking what he can get me in a silky Spanish accent. I smile weekly at him before asking him for anything as long as it is strong. He potters behind the bar as I look around nervously hoping Peter hasn't followed me.

The barman places the glass in front of me and nods waiting for me to take a sip and approve his choice. As the liquid contents coat my mouth I smile appreciatively and then continue knocking back the drink and asking for another. I'll give the Spanish their due, they know how to make a good, strong drink.

I continue to sit taking drink after drink from the tender. This wasn't my intention but you know the saying when in Rome and all that! It's not long before I find myself slumped over the bar, unable to pronounce a single comprehensive word. My fingers wrapped around the almost empty glass not wanting to let go when I hear that voice, he is back, Frank is back.

"Oh Carla" he says disapprovingly.

I slowly attempt to lift my head from the bar to look at him and there he stands, shaking his head and smiling. I try to say something but no words come out. I'm scared and suddenly feel alone. He approaches me, slightly wary but not scared and then reaches out for me. It's just enough to set me off, the glass in my hand flies towards his image and then all hell breaks loose.


	98. Chapter 98

The glass smashes against a pillar, narrowly missing a holidaymaker who was relaxed with a cocktail and 'that book' everyone has been reading. My blurry vision doesn't help things as I watch the chaos I've caused unfold. People are screaming and protesting as am I. The image of Frank still stands before me, unharmed by the glass I just aimed at his head.

I suddenly get the sensation of falling and am unable to help myself as I fall backwards from the stool. My head smacks against the tiled floor and the room starts to spin as images of people fussing over me come and go. One image remains and that is Frank. I can feel myself screaming but no one can hear me, why does he persist in haunting me, what does he want?

"Carla, Carla!" I hear faintly and try to bring myself round, back into a conscious state but I am not in luck. With my eyes now closed I just find myself reliving that night, reliving my rape.

My cheek is numb and cold as I find myself regaining consciousness. Opening my eyes I see myself still in the bar area lying on the cold tiled floor. It is empty and silent in the area and I lift my head to get a good look at my surroundings. I've been completely abandoned.

Pushing with my feet against the floor I sit myself up. My head is spinning, its sore but at least its no hangover. I look around hoping to see Peter's friendly face but he appears to have left me too. Struggling I lean up on one of the stools and use it to support my weight as scramble ungracefully to my feet. I wobble finding my balance and have to grab the edge of the bar for support.

Isn't it funny how when you're lying on the floor after a couple of drinks you feel fine and then as soon as you get up you get vertigo and develop that horrible liquid overload in your stomach. The bile rises right up my throat and before I can stop it I'm bent double chucking up all that alcohol over my feet. My throat is burning where pure stomach acid is all I have left to lose.

My bare feet are now pooled in slimy acidic vomit and my head feels like it has been jammed in a vice. I can't see clearly or walk in a straight line, but I need to get back to the room, fall into bed and rest. I stumble across the bar area and reach the corridor leading back to the rooms. Placing my palms flat against the wall I use it as a guide to help me along and stop myself from collapsing. Why am I so alone?

I don't stay stable and on my feet for long. I trip on my own drunken feet and tumble forward, luckily I don't hit the floor and as I look up I see his face, it's Peter. I find myself smiling, feeling so happy that he has re-appeared to take care of me but his face says different, he's not thrilled. He is not gentle dragging me back to the hotel room and once we are inside he throws me down onto the bed, covering me with a sheet. It scares me, I don't like Peter behaving like this, he might as well be Frank.

"What the hell Carla?" he yells the second I'm settled into the pillow. I have my eyes screwed tightly shut because the lighting isn't helping my headache and my hands pressed firmly against my ears because the noise level is unbearable. "I told you not to get drunk, I said it wouldn't help" he continues to scream and lecture me. "We have an hour Carla, one hour and then they want us out! I have to sober you up in that time as well!"

I laugh finding his little rant completely amusing as I start to drift in and out of sleep. If he lets me sleep for an hour I'm sure I'll be sober enough, god why is he still yelling. "Carla!" he yells angrily and it just makes me giggle more. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, yes I hear you. One hour blah blah get sober." I mumble in exasperation.

"CARLA!" Peter yells and from his tone I know he's mad and I've pushed him too far. Maybe he'll pick up a bottle too, that's what he usually does. I sit myself up laughing hysterically at his little out burst.

"Oh Peter baby have a drink, lighten up" I giggle.

He frowns and his lips press into a thin line. Marching over to me he grabs my arm and drags me from the sheets. I hit the floor with a bump and he doesn't even give me a chance to find my feet before he drags me across the floor and into the bathroom. Dumping me on the floor I continue to giggle at his behaviour I find so amusing.

A sudden burst of water is heard from the shower and its so loud Peter has to shout over it to get my attention. His words mean nothing as I sit giggling in my amused state, when Peter is angry he is so comical. Suddenly his fingers are once again gripping into my flesh as he pulls me up off the floor. I watch as he pulls back the door to the shower and throws me in. I hit the tiles hard and then sink down to the floor into the small puddle of water. I shriek as the freezing cold water soaks my body, hair and robe whilst Peter watches in his dry state behind the frosted glass.

He leaves me there for god knows how long until I'm shivering and crying like a seriously injured child. When he's satisfied I have learnt my lesson he opens the door, leans in and stops the flow of water. Reaching down he lifts me out and allows me to flop down on the dry tiled floor.

"Feel sober yet?" he asks harshly. I nod not able to speak to him, how could he do this to me it was so cruel. He couches down and peels the heavy, wet towelling robe from my soaked skin before lifting me and wrapping me in a fluffy, clean dry towel. Under my breath I mutter an apology and then head back into the bedroom. Peter follows closely behind and when I perch on the end of the bed he passes me a bag.

"Now hurry up and get dressed" he orders as he goes to the door and exits leaving me alone again.


	99. Chapter 99

The tears form along the rims of my eyes the second I'm alone and seconds later they fall in a continuous stream alone the sides of my nose, over my lips and dripping from my chin. Deep down I know Peter is right and no wonder he blames me but did he need to be so harsh. He was obviously fed up with me, I've pushed him beyond his limits, and kind caring Peter is obviously non-existent now where my drinking is concerned.

I hug the brown paper bag Peter chucked at me containing fresh clothing as a form of comfort. I'm clutching it so tightly I have caused it to rip where my tears have dripped and weakened its structure. I don't want to move, I want to lay here and feel sorry for myself but Peter's new attitude has made me wary. If I don't get sorted I'm dreading his reaction when he returns.

I let the bag slip from my fingers and slide down my body until it hits the floor. I can't help thinking that if I weren't about, not here anymore Peter would be happier. Convinced I am definitely better off out of the way I slide myself off of the bed and head back to the bathroom.

Hovering over the bath I pause for just a minute with my hand firmly placed over the tap. I take a deep breath and then turn it to full power. Water shoots from the tap and thunders against the empty tub. I slam my hand down on the stopper to close the plug and wait for the water to fill the bath. Sliding down to the floor I dangle my hand over and into the water, letting my fingers dance effortlessly on the surface.

The sound of the tumbling water I find very therapeutic and it's sets me off into a daydream. I see Peter and he's happy, curled up on the sofa with Leanne and little Simon playing on the floor, happy families but I destroyed that. Suddenly my skin is met by a wave of freezing water and only then do I realise the bath is over flowing. I reach up and quickly rotate the tap in the opposite direction to stop the flow of water.

I release some of the contents by raising the plug, but not too much I fully intend to take this bath. Satisfied that there is enough water left I rid myself of the fluffy towel, letting it slide down my skin and land on the puddles upon the floor. Raising my right leg I dip my toes into the water and shudder as they make contact with the cold water. Gritting my teeth I sink my leg into the water and then using the tiled wall opposite lean against it whilst I drag my left leg into the tub.

Standing with my legs half immersed into the bath I crouch down and then let myself slide back into the water. It covers my entire body up to my neck and I lay still whilst the cold water nips painfully at my skin. It's not as refreshing as I thought it would be but who cares, don't need hot water for what I'm about to do. Taking one last deep breath I close my eyes and sink beneath the water.

I hold my breath as long as is humanely possible and then breathe out. Bubbles float to the surface from my nose and mouth as I silently inhale the clear liquid. It will not defeat me this is best for everyone. I try to focus my mind on something positive and that is if I'm successful this time I will finally be re-united with Liam. The thought of him makes me smile and I begin to slip away.

Suddenly I feel myself coughing violently and the sloshing of water. Although I know I'm almost out cold I can sense commotion. I can hear faint shouting, a panicked but angry toned voice and have the vague sensation of not being in my bath any longer. I feel myself choking and subconsciously force myself to cough. My eyes spring open at the rushing sensation of fluid travelling up my windpipe and it feels so rough as though someone has taken sandpaper to it.

I'm conscious and to my disappointment still alive, damn I wanted to be with Liam. Over me hovers an angry looking Peter, he is trying to get me to respond to his questions, but they don't sound much like questions to me, he's just yelling. So un-sympathetic, I was coping okay until he suggested we run away and have a big adventure. Yeah some adventure it's just made everything a million times worse. I hate him.

I attempt to sit up as I gasp to replenish my breath. Peter sees me struggling and offers to help. He rests a comforting hand on my back and rubs gently in soothing circles as my breathing starts to regulate again. As soon as I begin to feel ok I let the tears begin again, giant heaving sobs. Partly for the pain I'm in and feeling and the rest in grief because I want Liam and now my two attempts to re-unite us have both been interfered with by Saint Barlow.

"What the hell were you thinking Carla?" he yells.

I sit silently shaking my head as he continues with his rant and lecture.

"It was so selfish, look at the state of you! Carla! Are you even listening?" He snaps nastily.

I thought he was supposed to love me and now look, he's circling me telling me what a pathetic little mess I am, just like Tony and just like Frank. When did he become so evil, what has made him suddenly snap?

"I'm sorry" I whimper from my vulnerable position on the floor.

"Sorry" laughs Peter "You're sorry, what were you thinking Carla?" he demands again.

"Li-Li-Liam" I stammer letting my emotions get the better of me.

Peter is bought straight to his knees, he had no idea and I can tell he could kick himself for not realising. He grabs me quickly and holds me tight, rocking me gently in his strong arms as I sob uncontrollably into his chest, sniffling and wiping my nose on his shirt. He hushes me trying to calm me as I heave away.

"Baby, I'm sorry, so sorry" he apologises softly.

I must have fallen asleep in Peter's warm embrace because upon re-opening my eyes we have a complete change of scenery. I'm sat on a padded seating area in a busy area that looks like a terminal. Spanish holidaymakers rush about minding their own business and through sleepy eyes I search the crowds for a sign of Peter. I eventually spot him in a crowd at the check in, he's chatting happily with the assistant as she takes paperwork from him and then promptly hands it back with a big cherry red lip-gloss smile.

He strides back over to me with a huge smile. "Ready baby?" he calls out upon approach.

I nod with a confused expression but have to ask. "Where are we umm…"

"America Car!" he explains excitedly grabbing my hand and pulling me quickly behind him in the direction of security.


	100. Chapter 100

Now having landed in the U.S.A only hours ago I find myself in the waiting room of a psychiatrist. Peter assures me he is an old friend of his. And there was me thinking he was doing something nice and bringing me out here to see my friends. He's explained that this Doctor friend started the practice after serving and has been helping service people with their fears for years. Peter described to me some symptoms and told me I have _'trauma.' _Seriously I don't know who he thinks he is sometimes.

We don't have to wait long before we are called in and Dr. Smyth is offering me a seat on a firm leather couch opposite his desk area. Peter shakes his hand and they have a warm conversation, giggling and reminiscing clearly forgetting I'm sat here waiting like some sort of idiot. I'm Carla Connor for Christ's sake, no matter how bad things get I do not need some shrink making me re-live my so called traumatic past.

To be honest I have doubts about this man, Peter says he's an old friend but the last _'friend' _of Peter's we trusted almost resulted in us being murdered at the cabin in the woods! He address me in a friendly tone as he comes to take a seat opposite and then works his way through a list of pre-prepared pleasantries. The only thing I don't agree to is Peter having to leave and I'm insistent that he stay. Eventually the doctor gives in and I feel pretty good with myself, feisty Carla lives on.

At first I stay quiet, the questions are simple and I can nod or shake my head by way of reply. Everything is going swimmingly until her asks a question regarding my main fear. He explains that Peter has filled him in on few details of what was upsetting me back in Spain and having such a dramatic effect on my behaviour. He speaks clearly as he says my demons name.

'Let's talk about Frank, Carla?" he starts.

The name sends a colder than artic ice chill through my body. Do we have to is my first thought? I just want rid of him and his taunting smirks in my head. He still treats it like a playground, loving the hold and control he has over me. I sit silently again, not able to look Dr. Smyth or Peter in the eye. Can I really relive this again and sober? I've been through it time and time again and it drives me to distraction.

"Carla, how does Frank make you feel?" pushes the Doctor.

I slide my shaking hand across the couch to find Peter's and he grabs my fumbling fingers firmly giving a re-assuring squeeze. I'm glad he's finally being supportive, it's a side of Peter I had really started to miss these last few days. He was like a total stranger in Spain, un-sympathetic to my problems and I know its been tough for him too but he has to remember the horrible ordeal I have been through.

Still feeling uneasy I turn my bowed head slowly in Peter's direction, lifting it as I turn so I can look at him. I have to look at him, I can't talk about this and he is the only one who can read the pain in my eyes. He will have to explain to his friend here because I refuse to break down and reveal my most vulnerable self to a complete stranger. Peter's eyes lock instantly with mine and it causes him to squeeze my hand even tighter crushing my fingers against his palm. You'd think it would hurt but I find it comforting.

"Carla?" presses the Doctor.

God, for a psychiatrist he ain't half pushy. I thought they were supposed to be patient and caring there to sit back and listen and if you didn't talk you were just wasting your money. Wrong wasn't I? I stare at Peter with teary eyes that must look like they are about to burst because they certainly feel that way and shake my head. He knows instantly what I'm trying to explain, this session is too much, I'm not ready. I bow my head again satisfied he has got my message loud and clear.

"Mate, so sorry. I don't think she can do this" Peter explains.

I hear shuffling and then looking up because I'm curious as to what is happening and I see Doctor Smyth kneeling before me. He places his hand over Peter's that is holding mine and suddenly Peter lets his slip away. Grabbing my other hand Doctor Smyth gently manoeuvres me so I am facing forward again.

"Carla I'm sorry but the only way to conquer this is to face your fears. Can we at least try?" he asks softly.

What he says makes sense but can I really do it, can I explore the dark depths of my thoughts and history. All the things I've kept hidden away, buried deep just out there in the open. I take a deep breath and swallow down hard the lump developing in my throat. Neither of them are going to let me leave this room until I talk, so I'm just going to have to be a big girl and face my fears.

I nod gently in agreement and then sigh loudly before looking up to see the Doctor's sympathetic expression. He smiles so sweetly and then just as Peter had done gives my hands a reassuring squeeze before retreating back to his desk. I sit nervously and wait for him to ask me the question again. I can feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat, I'm panicking, it's one thing seeing that night over and over and having Frank haunt me and another investigating how I feel about it all.

"So Carla?" the Doctor continues.

"How do you feel when you think about Frank?"

I take a deep breath and look straight at him still teary eyed and now shaking a little. I can't believe I have agreed to sit and try to explore this. It's going to open one hell of a can of worms. I wrack my brain to find something to say to start with, but what. I stare at the Doctor and can see he knows I am trying. I ask myself silently, how does Frank make me feel?


	101. Chapter 101

"Scared"

It's the first thing that comes to my mind so I say it. It's not like its not true, Frank does scare me, he terrifies me literally. I hope that will do for now, even thinking of that tiny little word has made me feel so vulnerable but I suspect I won't get off that lightly.

"What is it about Frank that scares you so much Carla?" asks the Doctor innocently.

I find myself rolling my eyes oh this is exhausting. I thought he said Peter had explained my _'situation'_? Surely he knows why I feel the way I do. Some Doctor! I look round to Peter my eyes dying to burst with tears and lean over to him. He opens his arms instantly housing me and holding me as tightly as he can.

"Come on baby, you can do this" Peter whispers encouragingly.

I wish I believed him but I think this is going to be to painful. At the end of the day the way I am is not entirely Frank's fault. Paul, Liam, Tony and to a point Peter are all to blame and this Doctor is going to drag that all up and out in the open. My feelings towards them all are muddled and I really don't feel strong enough to deal with all this now. I can feel myself slowly freaking out and I don't think I can cope.

"You…erm… Do you know what he did to me?" I ask nervously almost choking on the words as I stare into the Doctor's sympathetic eyes.

He nods and looks to Peter for some sort of clarification. Peter whispers to me again telling me that his friend has a very brief understanding of my past. Brief indeed I think to myself, he only knows what I've told Peter. I take a deep breath thinking how I can continue without upsetting myself too much.

"The fact he taunts me" I offer meekly.

"Carla, I understand that. Now only if you can, explain how he taunts you?"

I revert back to silence instantly. How he taunts me, are we really going to go there? Even if I explain, which I can't, they'll never understand and especially not the Doctor. You had to know Frank like I knew Frank to understand how he does what he does to me, even from his grave. I want to explain but that's it, I've pushed as hard as I am willing or dare. This is stupid.

Suddenly I pull myself away from Peter and push up from the couch taking both men by surprise. I quickly scan both their faces and confused expressions before I run out of the office as fast as my tired aching legs can carry me. I hear the door slam making a terrible echoing noise in the long empty corridor. I come to a halt at the closed steel lift door and press the button frantically praying the doors will ping open any second.

I'm not in luck. Peter has caught up with me before the lift has even had chance to try and reach me on this ridiculously high floor. He grabs me before I can resist and holds me tightly as I attempt to fight him off. Tears stream from my eyes and over my cheeks as I scream for Peter to let me go. My voice is hoarse and I'm literally heaving for breath as he fails to loosen his protective grip on me.

I have never ever found myself in such a tormented and irrational state. This Carla Connor is one hell of a mess. I assume it is has something to do with all the traumatic events of the past years mixed with the pressure and stress of this break Peter had told me would be relaxing.

I eventually find myself feeling tired and resist fighting Peter just before the lift doors ping open. Now that's timing! I don't know about Peter but for today I have had enough. I speak softly and ask if we can leave. He reluctantly agrees but on the promise and understanding that I have to come back tomorrow, commit and try to face my fears. I agree because I just want to get away from here. Who knows, maybe tomorrow I'll feel better.

The lift doors ping and fly open so I step in quickly as I see the Doctor approaching. Peter doesn't follow he waits for the Doctor to arrive as I tap my foot impatiently on the floor. They start chatting and before either of us have chance to intercept them the doors start closing. Reaching across I furiously stab at the retract doors button but its no use, seconds later the lift starts its decent.

I recite in my head that it'll be ok, I can just get off in reception and wait for Peter. But soon I find myself feeling too confined and terribly claustrophobic. I still have many floors to go until I reach my destination and it's enough to set me back into panic mode. When I find myself in this situation it's when the torments begin and I know it won't be long until he appears.

That's it, before I've even had the thought there he is. Casually stood in the corner, smirking away with twinkling eyes. I suddenly find myself staved of air and feeling light headed and dizzy. The movement of the lift is scaring me for no reason at all and I can feel myself on the verge of freaking out. Frank is still and as long as he stays that way maybe I can make it to ground floor without fainting.

Unfortunately I'm not in luck, he starts making a move and reaches out for me. In a freak moment of panic I slam my hand against the buttons hoping the lift will stop at the next available floor and I can jump out, get myself some help. Suddenly the lift stops, but the doors don't open. My eyes shift to the buttons and I see that I have accidentally pushed emergency stop. This will require my full attention, how do I get the thing moving again?

Being brave I turn my back on Frank and focus on what's written on each of the buttons. None of them say start and so hoping for the best I repeatedly stab the emergency stop, praying the thing will move.

My breathing hitches as I suddenly sense him behind me. Turning quickly we come face to face and the sensation of him pushing me takes a hold on my body. I feel restricted, his hands are placed firmly against the lift wall either side of my head. He pushes with his hips against mine, keeping me firmly against the steel wall. He leans in close and whispers in my ear.

"It's your fault, you made me do it"

Those words haunt me I can't believe I keep letting him repeat them. I can't take it anymore, I open my mouth and let out an ear-piercing scream I'm sure the whole building has heard.


	102. Chapter 102

I slide down the wall gasping desperately for air. My screams seem to have frightened Frank off. I feel my whole body trembling as I sit in the jammed lift and wait to be found. I wonder if Peter heard me, maybe he'll come and rescue me. Bless him, I really should give him more credit, he's rescued me on many occasion. I'm one hell of a damsel in distress when you think about it. The thought makes me laugh, hysterical giggles.

The air surrounding me is cold and I feel chilly. Turning my head slowly I look up at the buttons and wonder if I should try again to get this thing going. Surely there is somewhere this emergency button links to that alerts someone that the lift is out of action? I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them tightly to conserve my heat. I can feel a fresh spout of tears coming on and wish I could hold them back but I'm struggling.

I feel so alone but rather that than be in here with Frank like I was. I really am shivering now, my lips chattering away as I silently beg for someone to come and help me. Only I could get stuck in a lift and not be found for hours. I know that may be an exaggeration but I have been in here for sometime. I've sobbed so hard I've made my eyes sting and my throat rough and dry. I feel seriously dehydrated also; the last time I had something to drink was on the flight.

I try to keep myself occupied, help pass the time and all that. I find my mind wandering back to thoughts of Liam. I get sudden warmth from the happy memories and then feel his arms wrap around me. It's almost as if he is there with me, sat behind me and holding me tight in a loving embrace. It makes me feel safe and suddenly drowsy, I can feel my eyes closing so I begin falling back against his soft skin.

I screw my eyes tight and I flinch at the sudden loud, mechanical noise that surrounds me. I find myself waking, not by choice mind. I was lost in the most perfect of dreams. Suddenly the lift jolts and then springs back into action rushing once again down floor-by-floor but not stopping. The moving sensation makes me feel sick and I find I'm unable to move closing my eyes again I try to fight the terrible feeling.

'_ping'_

The doors open as the lift voice announces we are at 'ground floor'. It's all very loud, noisy and confusing and as I begin to stir I'm aware of someone rushing to my aid. I don't recognise any of the voices but whoever they are I'm grateful as they lift me from the cold lino flooring. I'm lowered onto a sofa in the bright reception and I keep my eyes narrowed. The light is painful and I can't look into it.

The voice's mumble incoherently as they step to one side leaving me to slump back into the sofa. I'm trying to relax but am a little concerned as to the whereabouts of Peter. As much as I have enjoyed reminiscing about the love of my life Liam, I am now in fact very much in need of Peter to take care of me.

My head is all over the place and I am not going to be able to take much care of myself. I had only just been holding it together throughout all the terrible things happening these last few months. But now there was nothing, we weren't running, hiding or scared of any vicious gangsters. There was no distraction and I was letting it all get the better of me. Maybe we should head home, the factory would keep me busy, I'm betting Rob's made a right mess!

With my last thought I cackle loudly. I can see them both, Rob and Chelle, stood outside my boarded up, out of business factory and the rabble I call staff protesting before them. Don't know why I'm laughing, if they've lost me my factory that makes me broke! The thought makes me laugh again.

"You ok mam?" asks a strong American accent.

I nod and continue to giggle quietly hoping Peter appears soon before they send me off back to the Doctors office. I'm in luck he appears the next second and comes running over to me, calling my name as he approaches. It doesn't take long for the weak smile on my face to fade when I notice Smyth on his heels. Great! Does that man not know how to leave us alone? It makes me feel instantly moody and I place my arms firmly across my chest.

Peter quickly sits beside me and forces his arm behind me so he can pull me in close.

"Where have you been?" he asks in a worried tone.

I giggle and then answer in a most amused tone. "Well, funny thing is I got stuck in the lift"

"How?" asks Peter looking confused.

"Stupid really but Frank appeared and I tried to stop the lift at the next floor but I hit emergency stop by accident" I explain suddenly not feeling so chirpy about the whole thing.

Peter's expression drops and he looks lost, obviously not knowing what he can do and say. Both he and I have tried to get me passed all this but it's tougher than we thought and it's definitely harder than kicking the drinking habit. I suddenly find myself in a very sombre mood, I really do just want to get out of these offices.

I turn to Peter and look him in the eye.

"Can we go?" I ask calmly.

He smiles back warmly. "Of course baby, come on"

He takes my hand to help me up from the sofa and I stumble straight into his arms. He practically carries me from the building and the whole way to the hotel. We would have got a cab, but our money is scarce and Peter assures me the hotel is only basic but he's sure it'll do.

The street is cold and damp and we appear to be wandering around in a foreign area. I swear I've not heard and English word from passers by in ages. Suddenly he stops us and I look up to see why. A small, badly illuminated yellow sign hangs above our heads advertising the Ruby Hotel. Posh name, shoddy exterior is my first thought. I guess this is my bed for the night.


	103. Chapter 103

Having checked in the little foreign man who owns the building had led us up to our room. He'd had a bit of a fight with the stiff door but eventually had got us inside. The hotel certainly lives up to its grotty exterior. An uninviting bed with what I am positive are not clean sheets is the only thing that stares at me. There is no private bathroom or television to watch. This is officially a run down, flea pit, cheap hotel and Peter must be kidding if he actually expects me to sleep here!

I turn to Peter with once again tearful eyes. Surely we can't stay here. I'm used to luxury and I know the past few months I have slept rough or not at all but he said I need to relax now and I certainly can't do that here. I can see by his reaction that he knows I am disappointed. He smiles sweetly at me and then pulls me into a loving warm cuddle.

"I know it's not much sweetheart but it's just one night. As long as we are together yeah?"

I nod where he has me pressed against his chest. He's right I should be thankful we are together, we've not spent a night together for a while now. Something about that thought makes me feel so warm. I hesitate for a moment when he lets go of me before climbing onto the bed. I've decided I will just rest on the top sheet and stay fully clothed. God knows what germs I would catch if I stripped off and buried myself in the dirty sheets.

Peter quickly climbs on beside me where I lay on my side with my knees bent and my hands pressed together resting under my cheek. I feel his body press against my back as he lays a protective arm around me and hugs me tight. There is something comforting about finally being able to share a bed with him again after all these weeks, even if it is a rotten and filthy one!

Snuggled up together we feel each other's body heat. Just as well considering the room is freezing and the old style sash window just above our heads is letting in a terrible draft. Peter is snoring away behind me, obviously able to find some peace. I however am struggling. I am starved of sleep and very much in desperate need of rest but I can't, not in a strange city with the loud noise of sirens whizzing past every thirty seconds or so. I close my eyes and try my hardest to relax, if I can just focus on something that makes me happy maybe I will drift off naturally.

My eyes open slowly when I feel Peter fidgeting behind me, he seems to be stirring and then he tightens his grip round my middle as he mumbles something incomprehensible in a sleepy state. It makes me feel irritable but he pushes into me and then slowly moves me so I'm flat on my back and he's straddling me. Leaning down he kisses me lightly and then pulls away. He repeats the action a few times, obviously testing the water as to whether I'm up for this or not.

A few more goes and then our lips lock as I kiss him back. My hands slip up and around his neck. I really have missed my intimate moments with him and am in a way grateful for his affections tonight. At least they keep me distracted. I feel comfortable, at ease as his hands travel slowly up my body under my top and rest on my breasts. I feel slightly aroused but Peter's is definitely more apparent as it pushes awkwardly against me.

Lost in a passionate moment he moves his hand slowly to my back and raises me up so he can remove my top. This is when I freeze, I'm not ready I can't do it. He's going to hate me. In a suddenly frightened state I go tense and stop returning the kisses. Peter presses on unaware of my sudden change but it isn't long until he pulls back. My eyes are glazed and my breathing short and sharp. My blood runs cold in my veins and my skin is cold to the touch, it as if I'm barely alive.

I can't move and Peter reads the signs perfectly. He is quick to relieve my body of his weight and lies down beside me propped up on one arm. My eyes slide to the side to look at him. He doesn't look disappointed but I know he is. "I'm sorry" I say breathlessly and in an almost inaudible tone. Peter is quick to smile and with the back of his knuckles reaches out to gently caress my cheek. I flinch instantly at his touch and he pulls away. Fumbling for my hand he grabs it and squeezes it tight.

"No baby, it's ok. I'm sorry I shouldn't have tried to push you"

I thank him silently with a weak smile and then he continues to speak. It's good progress Peter and I do need to talk. Talk about everything. Whether we are going to stay here or go somewhere else, maybe return home? All the nasty things we've been through, the whole experience and then just forget about it. Have the break we came to have.

"I know you've been through a lot baby and I'm sorry. The pressure you have been put under hasn't helped you recover and it really is all my fault. Please forgive me Carla. I love you"

His words make my heart melt. Usually I find this whole lovey dovey, hearts and flowers crap sickening but when it comes from Peter there is just something different about it. Mirroring him I turn and prop myself up on one arm. I stare into his wide, teary looking brown eyes and smile warmly. I decide to surprise him, if I focus on him and him alone maybe I can do this. Leaning forward I tempt him with a light kiss and then retreat. He doesn't make an instant move so I lean forward again and kiss harder, this time he kisses back and seconds later his hands are wandering all over my body. Things are going well.

Suddenly he pushes me back, gently of course.

"No Carla, I can't you're not ready sweetheart" he explains as tears begin to prick my eyes as a result of rejection.


	104. Chapter 104

I turn over quickly so Peter is facing my back, I can't look at him. He was going to love me and then he rejected me. How could he? Feeling hurt I let the tears trickle from my eyes as I sniffle and whimper into the pillow. Suddenly the grotty room don't seem too bad. My mind is running through all sorts of ideas as to why Peter would think I'm not ready to be intimate with him again. I know the last few weeks I have been a bit of a mess but maybe he'd be able to relieve my tensions and I would return back to my old self. It had worked before after my attack so why not again?

Peter's hand lands gently on my arm and I flinch. I'm disgusted with him and quickly shrug him off. If he will hurt my feelings so badly then I will have to defend them. I think he's taken the hint when he seems to roll away from my body but when I open my closed eyes he is sat on the floor by the bed, staring up at me.

The sight of him makes me frown and I go to roll over but Peter grabs my arm before I have chance. He smiles sweetly and then lets the expression drop. It changes to a look of compassion. He thinks he knows why I am angry with him and no doubt he is going to sit and try to explain now. He keeps a firm grip on my arm as he speaks.

"Carla, I'm sorry. I know I've upset you baby but you must believe me you aren't ready. I love you and I don't want to take advantage."

I guess what he said makes sense but why would he think he was taking advantage of me. I stay silent as I shuffle as close to the edge of the bed as I can and then lean across, straining my neck to reach Peter's lips. I kiss him hard and then almost fall from the bed. Pulling back quickly to stop myself I giggle and then Peter starts chuckling away too! Getting up and onto his knees he leans on the edge of the bed. I lift my head slightly and quickly kiss him again.

"Please Peter" I beg

"Please what?" he asks in a slightly confused tone.

"Take advantage of me" I say with a smile and in a soft voice.

He smiles and then shoos me into the middle of the bed with a gesture of his hands. The smirk on my face grows as he climbs on beside me and looks down on me where I lay flat on my back.

"Are you sure baby?" he says with a smile.

I smile and then bite my bottom lip seductively whilst I nod in answer. I don't think I've ever wanted Peter as much as I want him right now. Well I have but you know how it is when a moment just feels perfect. He creeps back on top of me, pinning me beneath him and then gently places his hands on my stomach before swooping down and kissing me firmly on my lips.

It's blissful so I close my eyes and enjoy the feel of his lips upon my skin and his familiar touch. It's so comforting and for now I feel relaxed. Slowly Peter trails his kisses down my chin and onto my collarbone before they meet the neckline of my top. His hands quickly travel down the length of my body and stop on the hem of my top. Fumbling with his hands Peter grabs it and then pulls his lips away so he and I can sit up and he can remove my top. He manages it in one swift action and then waits for me to lay myself back down.

I shudder as the cold air attacks my warm flesh and then whilst Peter sits smiling down at me I reach out for the hem of his top. My actions aren't as smooth as his and he laughs at me when I struggle to sit up again and pull the t-shirt over his head. He smiles and gently bats away my shaking hands to remove it himself. With both our bodies now exposed Peter returns to the tops of my breasts with his lips. It's not long till they surround my nipples and he begins suckling away.

I can't suppress my moans and find them escaping my lips continuously as Peter switches sides and then trails more kisses down the length of my body until he reaches my navel. His lips then leave my skin and he looks up and right at me.

"You ok there baby?" he asks softly.

I nod my head gently and hope he'll continue to press on. I'm not disappointed. He grabs the top of my leggings and pulls them quickly down. It makes me giggle nervously and then Peter proceeds with gently rolling them down to my ankles and pulling them off. Throwing them to one side he discards them and they land on the floor beside the bed. He starts to undo his jeans as I wriggle impatiently below him in just my knickers. He slowly lowers himself back down and our lips meet again as we lock into a passionate kiss.

Completely lost in the moment I am taken be surprise when Peter suddenly hooks his fingers into my knickers and practically rips them from my body. I gasp in shock before I can stop myself, and at the sound Peter stops. I'm aching to have him, he can't stop now but I think he thinks I'm finding it too much again. He pulls away and takes a good long look at me.

"Are you ready?" he whispers.

I take a deep breath and nod. I'm excited, so glad we are about to do this again. Peter re-establishes our kiss and then manages to surprise me again when suddenly I find him penetrating me. It is less enjoyable than I remember and I find myself distracted all of a sudden. I am not enjoying myself as much as I had thought and out of nowhere find myself silently crying.

I think Peter realises by my lack of response this isn't all that I thought it would be. He pulls out instantly and again I gasp, suddenly feeling a heat and soreness where he has just been. My cheeks flush in embarrassment and I suddenly can't breathe. Peter sits on the bed in his nakedness and then pulls me up into his arms in a comforting gesture.

"Baby, I'm sorry" he whispers in my ear as I sob into his bare chest.

I really am pathetic. Poor Peter he's apologising for something that is not his fault. I let him hold me until I'm shivering. Peter lets go of me and swoops his hand down to sweep up his shirt from the floor. Gently he places it over my head and helps me get my arms into it before pulling me up onto his lap and wrapping his arms back around me. Eventually my tears cease and we sit in silence until I break it.

"I love you Peter. I'm sorry" I sniffle.


	105. Chapter 105

I wake finding my body entwined with Peters. Sun shines through the window and blinds me as I try to wriggle free of him. I seem to have developed a sudden headache and feel much worse for ware than I had hoped. Peter's arms are heavy and lifeless as I lift them off my body. It doesn't even stir him from his deep sleep.

I look out the window and see the street littered with people hurrying about in the early morning rush. They dart across the streets with a purpose in life, unlike me stood here with problems galore. The thought dawns on my mind that this is a new day and I had promised Peter I would go back to the therapy and try to help myself.

Right now I don't feel like it, I glance nervously over my shoulder at Peter sprawled across the bed and decide I can't do this. Quickly I grab my leggings and underwear from the floor and get dressed as quietly as I can. Creeping up to the door I pray I can get it open without it sticking. I just about manage it and sneaking round the door I shut it equally as quiet.

The hotel corridor is empty, not a soul and I hurry in the direction marked exit. The stairs creak noisily as I step onto them but I mustn't turn back now, I have made my choice. Reaching the reception I smile weakly at the guy on reception who had shown us to our room the night before. Heading outside into the natural morning light it instantly makes me feel better, nothing like a bit of fresh air.

My headache clears up nicely as I walk around trying to figure out what I want to do. Should I run away and try to get home or should I go back and face my demons? It's a tough call but I continue to walk whilst I try to make a sensible decision. I hope Peter isn't too worried about me though. I can see him now, waking up naturally and looking dazedly around the room before noticing I'm not there and going into complete panic mode. I kind of hope he doesn't though cause then we'll both be lost.

Looking around nervously I notice I've ventured further than intended. Looking around nervously I try to find something familiar to guide myself back to the hotel. Peter really will be worrying and I can't let him down, I made a promise and I really should keep it, after all he's only trying to help me.

Grabbing the next passer by I try desperately to explain to them that I am lost and need to find my way back to the Ruby Hotel. They are foreign and just seem to shrug at me. It's hopeless. Nearby is a small fountain so I hurry over and perch on the edge of the pool area. Bowing my head in my hands I start to sob hopelessly, feeling stupid for running out of the hotel.

"Miss, can I help you?" speaks and English voice.

I look up slowly and can't believe who I see, what the hell? This guy must be stalking us. It's Doctor Smyth and I quickly wipe away my tears with the backs of my hands and snivel.

"Carla!" He says surprised.

Yes it's me! God who else could I possibly be? I think sarcastically. What is he doing here is my first thought? I mean what's his excuse, I'm lost so I have reason but does he.

"Are you ok? Does Peter know you're here?" he bombards me with questions.

I laugh and then find myself breaking down. He is being nice and he can help me so maybe I should just answer his questions and be grateful I know him and he won't hurt me. Picking up my hand he smiles gently and that's it, I blurt it all out.

"Nope I'm scared I didn't want to face my fears and I got cold feet so went for a walk and well I got lost now I can't find the hotel and Peter will be worried" I don't stop for breath and feel exhausted by the time I'm finished explaining. He wraps and arm around me and pulls me in close as I start sobbing gently again.

"There there, it's ok, I'll call Peter and let him know. In the meantime why don't you come with me to my office and get a coffee. He can come and collect you"

I nod in agreement as he helps me to my feet. We walk just across the street and then stop at the glass doors to a tall building. I thought I recognised it, of course it's Smyth's offices. He flashes a pass at reception and they buzz us straight through security. He helps me into that dreaded lift that I had got stuck in yesterday and I have a mini panic attack when it jolts at the start of our journey.

I'm sweating nervously when we reach his office and he gestures I step inside, offering me a seat. He calls round the door to an assistant or something to get two coffees and then shuts the door. There is an awkward silence between us until his phone beeps on the desk. He grabs it quickly and smiles as he looks down on it.

"Peter is on his way" he explains without looking at me.

"Listen Carla" he continues still starring at his phone. "Do you want to talk about things whilst Peter isn't here? You know on a friendly advice only basis?"

It's a nice offer and I think I should take him up on it. I nod in agreement as he takes a seat at his desk. Just then his assistant comes in with coffee. She's stunning, leggy blonde and she gives me the evil eye. She obviously fancies the Doctor and sees me as a threat. I'm not, I have no interest in the guy what so ever.

She exits as swiftly as she entered and his eyes stay fixed on her the entire time. Only when she has closed the door does he look back in my direction with a smile.

"So Carla, where do you want to begin?"


	106. Chapter 106

I play nervously with my hands in my lap. What do I say in answer to that question, what can I say, where do I want begin? Peter has always told me and so have many other people in my life that you should always start at the beginning, but for me what is the begging. Do I start with my home life, things with mum and how I left, when I left and her and Rob had to deal with things or Paul, maybe everything with Liam, Tony? I mean how do I know, when did things really start to go so wrong for me.

Not knowing where I want to begin I decide maybe I should just say I don't know and hope Doctor Smyth here doesn't know what to do. Stupid thought I know, he must know something, after all he must have some fancy degree or something that makes him think he's qualified enough to help me and tell me what my problems are. I can feel myself getting frustrated, I do need to talk about things but having a drink to forget them is so much simpler.

I take another sip of my coffee, which thankfully is now cooler, and pray Peter will show up soon because this whole situation is terribly uncomfortable. The Doctor is eyeing me suspiciously because I haven't answered him and I know he's itching to ask me why but something is holding him back. I decide to stay quiet and continue to sip away at my coffee.

Nervously I ask how long Peter will be, my lips quivering, my arms shaking and genuinely feeling nervous as I await an answer. Doctor Smyth smiles and then picks up his phone, he glances at it for longer than I like. The smile is quick to drop from his face and I instantly fear the worst. What has happened to Peter? My expression must show how worried I suddenly feel because as soon as the Doctor looks back up I find him re-assuring me.

"Oh no Carla, sorry everything is ok, Peter has just text saying he's got a few things to do but he'll come and collect you in a while"

I sniffle and want to cry but fight my tears the best I can. Why is Peter just leaving me here? I instantly begin to sulk, my newfound strop isn't going to help this so called 'session' the Doctor has suggested. He looks at me sympathetically; I do wish he'd stop that I do not need his sympathy. It hardens my feelings towards him and I start to close up.

"Carla, do you want to try again, talk about things, maybe start with Frank?" Offers the Doctor.

The mention of Frank's name makes me freeze, my hand shakily holds the coffee cup. It's still half full though when I drop it. It's the hotel breakfast all over again, the cup luckily doesn't smash, it just lands at my feet with the cooler contents spilling out and covering the fancy rug. I feel terrible now just looking at the mess I've made. Apologising quickly for my silly mistake I slide off of the sofa and sit amongst the mess on the floor. My hands scrape into my hair and I tug at in a frustrated manner.

"Don't worry Carla" says the Doctor in a calm tone as he rushes from his desk to aid me. Crouching over the spilt coffee he leans forward and places his hands on my shoulders. I'm totally freaking out, why all of a sudden does the mention of Frank's name make me lose so much control. It hadn't affected me this badly prior to this trip.

Slowly the Doctor helps me rise and then sit back down onto the couch. I'm almost paralysed with fear. I can't hold back the tears any longer and they flow fast and heavy rolling down my red cheeks. I sniff and sob in a terribly unflattering way not able to control my emotion. Suddenly a handkerchief appears in front of me and I take it gently from Smyth's hand. Using is quickly I dab away at my soaked eyes and try to explain again that I'm sorry.

"It's ok Carla, it's ok, look lets just have a chat about Frank sweetheart. You can't carry on like this, he'll only destroy you"

I nod in agreement I do know Doctor Smyth is right. Speaking slowly and in a quiet tone I start to explain to him what happened between Frank, Peter and myself and hope it might lead me to discuss more of my emotions. Once I start I find I can't stop, everything that has happened since Liam died comes flooding out and I find myself once again teary and emotional.

Doctor Smyth looks pleased that I have opened up and now I've spoken about all my feelings I feel much better. A whole weight off my shoulders but it's also made me worry about some brought to surface feelings I didn't realise I had. They mainly concern Peter and it's no secret that my feelings continually change towards him and how I feel about him. But he's still in my head. Same as he always was.

Looking up at the Doctor I have a question for him. We've sat now and I've talked for hours. Peter should be due any minute and I know I have to ask this advice before he arrives. Taking a deep breath I open my mouth to speak.

"How…How do I tell Peter all this?" I ask stammering away as I struggle to get the words out.

Doctor Smyth shrugs, "All what?" he asks looking confused by my question.

I sigh heavily; he's clearly not been listening to all I've said over the last few hours. It's all come back to Liam and the fact no one lives up to the mark. I've said it before and I'll say it again now, it's always been Liam. No one, not even Peter can replace him and I'm not sure how to explain this to Peter.

"That I don't love.." I begin but a tapping on the door soon interrupts my sentence and Peter peeks round it.

"Am I…" he says breaking the silence and the Doctor shakes his head and gets up to greet him warmly and welcome him to take a seat beside me.

"I'll just leave you two for a moment, have a chat" he offers politely stepping out of the room so Peter and I are left alone, uncomfortably.


	107. Chapter 107

I can't bring myself to tell Peter, he looks so hopeful. Smiling brightly he gazes at me and I weakly muster up a smile to return. I'm not sure why he is so happy, I thought he would be furious with me for running off this morning. Reaching across he grabs my hands and gives them a squeeze. We both go awkwardly to speak at the same time. Hesitating I offer that Peter go first, I would hate to be responsible for ruining his happy mood.

"I've had an idea sweetheart, so this morning I booked a couple of tickets" he states excitedly and then pauses for my reaction.

My first thought is that he's bought tickets home. After discussing my past with Doctor Smyth I don't think I'm ready to go back to Weatherfield. In fact I don't think I'll ever be ready. I wait nervously with a now blank expression for him to continue. Dreary Weatherfield is the last thing I need right now. Sun and more sun would be better.

"They're for LA baby. I thought about it yesterday and we should have a proper holiday and you can see your friend"

I'm in shock, that is not what I expected, I can't wait to go. Jumping up from the sofa I'm practically out the door before Peter can catch me. Grabbing my arm he pulls me back into the office and closes the door. Holding my arms firmly he forces me to stand in front of him and look him in the eye. I suddenly have that nervous feeling back.

"Carla, you were going to tell me something?" He says in a more serious tone.

"Doesn't matter" I respond quickly in a dismissive tone. A bit of sunshine and girly time in LA will fix my problems for sure. I'll just keep my newer feelings for Peter secret and see if we can revert back to the way we were. I smile hoping if he sees a positive reaction we can get going. It seems to work and before I know it we've said goodbye to Smyth and our heading for the airport.

"Thank you Peter" I exclaim happily sat in the back of the New York yellow cab.

This is without a doubt the nicest thing we've done all trip and I can't wait to see Suzy, she will be so pleased. She always knows how to get my head and me back on the straight and narrow. I can't will the cab to move any faster, I'm buzzing with excitement and Peter seems to be too. This is a fresh start everything back to normal. Who knows he might love it there and we can stay. The thought gives me Goosebumps, I can just see us there now, happy and free of all the Coronation Street drama.

Slumping back against the leather seat I start to relax, now this will be the holiday I need. It's beginning to get dark now and as we whiz away from the city to the airport it looks so vibrant and pretty lit up.

Before I know it, we're pulling up outside and I'm stood waiting in the cold wind as Peter pays the Taxi driver. I'm shivering and wish I had a coat but once I get to LA there will be no need for it. That thought alone keeps me warm as Peter pulls out a cigarette from an obviously newly acquired packet and lights up. He smokes it quickly so we can get inside.

The airport is considerably warmer than outside and is quite busy also. We are quick to get into a queue and I cling nervously to Peter's arm. It's a good nervous feeling though, nervously excited and I really can't wait to get to LA. It's going to be such a surprise for Suzy too because I have no way of contacting her until I turn up on her doorstep. Getting even more excited I turn to Peter.

"Can we please stay with Suzy?" I ask him quickly, praying he's not booked a hotel yet.

"Well…I kind of booked a Hotel Car," he explains.

"Ok, I'll maybe stay with her for a night or two though, if that's ok?" I ask excitedly.

Peter nods and smiles and then we are called to show our tickets. The attendant is very bubbly and bright and smiles happily as she checks our bookings and directs us to the correct gate. It's all coming together nicely and I even have time to have a little look round the duty free before we board. This is lovely.

The fragrances fill the air as I look around them excitedly. They smell wonderful and many of them are my type of thing. I notice Peter watching me and he has such a sparkle in his eyes. I suddenly feel really guilty, he's only happy because he thinks I'm happy. I am but not about my feelings towards him, if he wants to stay in LA then we may be able to fix things but I'm not sure how I will feel if he wants to go home soon.

"Pick one Baby" he shouts across the shopping area.

"Go on then" He continues coming over to meet me and wrapping an arm around my waist. Is he being serious, we can't afford any of these? The tickets must have cost a fortune and I suspect he borrowed the money from his Doctor Friend.

"No Peter, we can't afford to" I answer. I will not spend what little money we have on this stuff.

He seems disappointed but doesn't fight me. As we walk away I do feel bad I rejected his offer and he was only trying to be nice but we need to be sensible with the money. Carelessness won't leave us much to start building a future here in America. We are going to be so happy here, I'll just have to subtly convince him we should stay. I know there is the issue with Simon but he can fly out at a later date and meet us or just come for school holidays, we can make it work.

We aren't in the departure lounge long when our flight is called and we can board the plane. Suzy and sunshine are only a few hours away and the thought is deeply comforting. Luckily the flight isn't busy and Peter and I have plenty of room. Pushing my economy seat back as far as it will go I close my eyes. I know we haven't even taken off yet but I am going to attempt to get some quality sleep before I arrive in LA. I want to look refreshed.


	108. Chapter 108

Peter gently rocks me and I open my eyes to see him smiling down on me as the Captain's voice fills the cabin. He is informing us that we are landing and I am so excited. Sitting myself up quickly I look out and see the evening sun lighting up the gorgeous sights of LA. It's as beautiful as I remember and I urge Peter to look. He seems excited too and exclaims how beautiful the scenery is. That's it step one complete at least he doesn't hate it.

The plane bounces as it hits the runway and I am itching to get out of my seat. As soon as the plane comes to a halt and it is safe to do so my belt is unbuckled and I'm hurrying Peter to follow suit. He is slow and relaxed with his actions it's so frustrating. I knew I should have sat in the isle seat!

"Eventually" I exclaim as he stands and before he can even move I've pushed passed him and am hurrying along the walkway. I don't care if Peter isn't right behind me, my destination is the first cab that will stop and rush me straight to Suzy's.

I'm in luck as we reach the exit, a line of cabs are waiting to take fares to wherever they need to be. Quickly we bundle into the back of one and before Peter has a chance to speak I have given the cab driver Suzy's address and we pull out into the traffic. I turn to Peter with a beaming grin plastered on my face. I'm just too excited and I think he knows but he now looks different than he did on the plane. If I'm not mistaken I would say he is upset.

"You ok?" I ask quickly grabbing his hand.

"Yes baby, just tired I didn't sleep on the plane" he explains softly but he doesn't look at me, he continues to stare out the window.

I fall back against the seat and can't help feeling bad. Maybe he's upset because we are going straight to Suzy's. Maybe I should have asked him first? But I am desperate to see her and we won't be long I'm sure. She'll have work in the morning and it's getting on for late evening now so she won't want us hanging around.

I smile as I begin to recognise a few familiar buildings and streets that surround Suzy's apartment block. I know we are only minutes away. Trying to cheer Peter up before we arrive I tell a little white lie. "I can't wait for Suzy to meet you"

He only grunts in response and now I really know he's in a mood about something. It has to be Suzy he was fine before we got in the cab. Never mind he won't spoil this for me, I can't wait to talk through the traumatic events that have happened to me since I last saw her a year ago.

The cab pulls up outside and I get out quickly leaving Peter to pay. A bit selfish I know but I was desperate to breathe in some of the refreshing Los Angles air. It gives me a rush of adrenaline and as the cab pulls away I grab Peter's hand and squeeze it tight. I'm shaking as we step into the main building after a kind resident leaving let us in. Summoning the lift we wait in an uncomfortable silence for it to arrive. I hope Peter will be in a better mood when he meets Suzy or this will be awkward.

The lift seems to take forever to get up to floor six where Suzy lives and under my breath I'm muttering away ordering it to hurry up. I practically run from it the second the doors begin to open. I'm so excited, I'm like a child. I really don't know what has come over me, I never behave like this it's so out of character.

Stood just outside Suzy's door I take a few deep calming breaths and try to return myself to my normal state. Suzy will need to see the sophisticated Carla she is used to, not the excitable mess I have been the whole way here. We are grown ups, professionals and although she is aware of my playful side I do it with sophistication and this is what she'll expect.

Raising my clenched fist I go to knock on the heavy wooden door. This now is all that separates me from my best friend. I wait nervously as I hear footsteps the other side and the scratching as she fumbles with the chain and locks. The door opens wide and there stands Suzy in her tracksuit. Her face emits shock as she stares at me. She's just taking in the sight.

"Carla!" she suddenly shrieks and then carelessly pulls me away from Peter and into the biggest cuddle I think she has ever given me. She seems happy but her reaction to my surprise visit seems somewhat strange. I realise instantly that something is wrong and all is not well with her. She, like myself often retreats and although happy to see someone usually gives a quick hug and then nothing further.

She hurries us inside and I quickly introduce Peter. Suzy just looks at him and winks at me. "So this is him" she says through gritted teeth and then gives a girly shriek. Peter must think we're like high school girls and I have been gossiping about my crush on him.

"Make yourselves at home" Suzy offers gesturing toward her lovely corner piece sofa as she heads into the kitchen.

Peter and I take a seat, funnily enough at either end of the sofa. A little bit awkward so, being the grown up I am I move to sit closer to Peter. Suzy returns quickly holding a bottle of champers and three flutes, plonking herself down she places them on the coffee table and then pops open the bottle.

"Not for me" Peter rudely answers when she hands him a glass she's just poured.

"Sorry, Peter is a recovering alcoholic" I explain to Suzy and she seems terribly apologetic, offering to get Peter a cup of tea, which to my horror he also declines. Suzy luckily shrugs it off and continues to pour a glass for each of us. Picking them both up she hands me one and I smile as I thank her.

"I don't think so Carla!" Snaps Peter in a parental tone as he snatches the glass from my hand. Firmly he places it back down in front of Suzy and spills part of the contents. What does he think he's playing at. I wanted that drink and he had no right to take it away.

Suzy eyes me suspiciously not understanding Peter's behaviour and obviously hoping I will explain. I don't know what to say, she knows I like to have a drink but she knows nothing of my drink _'problem' _and I'd really rather it stay that way.

"Is everything ok?" asks Suzy in a confused tone.

I don't get chance to answer my friend though before a furious Peter snaps back his response. "Yeah, don't give her drink either! She's a recovering alcoholic too!" he shouts and then he stomps out of the room. Suzy's eyes widen in shock and she glares at me, but not with anger, more with shock. I hear the door slam as Peter obviously leaves but where is he going. I must go after him or I'll lose him forever. He's right I shouldn't have the drink I know I shouldn't. Getting up swiftly I run out of the flat after him and by a stroke of luck just manage to catch him before he steps into the lift.


	109. Chapter 109

"Just go and have fun Carla, I'll come and get you tomorrow" he snaps as he hurries into the lift and he doesn't even give me chance to ask him what time before he smacks the button to shut the doors. I hear the gears as the lift descends. Pressing the button I try to call it back but I have to wait ages. Tapping my foot impatiently I wait and as the doors ping back open I jump in and repeatedly copy Peter's actions.

Reaching the lobby I squeeze through the tiny gap as the doors open just in time to hear the front door slam closed. Running I hurry over to it and twist the lock open. Surely Peter hasn't gone far. I'm in luck, he's just outside with a lit up cigarette taking long drags as he leans against the wall. I run over to him and throw my arms around him like a silly little girl. As soon as he removes the cigarette from his lips I kiss him long and hard.

"I'm sorry baby" I whisper.

His demeanour and attitude towards me changes instantly and he flicks the cigarette away to wrap his arms around me tight. I feel him rest his chin on my shoulder and sigh deeply. He squeezes me affectionately and then pulls away with a smile.

Reaching his hand up he gently pushes my hair back behind my ear and then cups my cheek. "Stay with Suzy, have fun Carla. I promise I'll be back in the morning. I'm just going to go and chill out, relax and get some sleep" he explains softly.

"Ok" I reply weakly.

"Peter, thank you. I love you" I say smiling as I press the buzzer to Suzy's flat.

She beeps it back straight away and I hurry inside as Peter stands hailing a cab.

"Everything ok sweetie?" asks Suzy as I re-enter the flat. I'm smiling so that must at least tell her something.

"Yes, sorry Peter is just tired." I reply with a nod.

Heading back to the sofa she tries again to hand me the champagne. I know I told Peter I wouldn't and he said no but one glass won't hurt. Settling back into the soft fabric and mass of scatter cushions I take a long sip. It's refreshing, just what I need and quickly I take another. I hold the glass tight and continue to sip away as Suzy talks away. She's had a busy year too, splitting up with her boyfriend and a change in jobs! It doesn't really compare with my year but she seems ok and happy with her current situation and I'm happy for her.

By the time she's finished explaining it all in great detail I have finished my second glass and am feeling rather drowsy. I shouldn't really be drinking on an empty stomach but oh well. Suzy pours me my third glass and then looks at me with sad eyes.

"So….Come on Carla. I know something is not right with you. When you left me last time you visited we'd almost restored you to normal and here you are again with a broken spirit. Spill?"

I am nervous, I had rung Suzy and she knew Frank had gotten away with the rape but I hadn't kept her up to date since. I decide to start with him being murdered by none other than his mother. Suzy is shocked but she can tell this was a result for me. I explain about the factory and how now it's all mine, quickly moving on to life with Peter and then the trip.

Starting to tell the story I'm ok until we reach the more dramatic events and by the time I get round to explaining Spain again I'm in floods of tears. Emotionally drained I just stop talking and explaining from the point where Peter had told me we were coming to LA. Suzy shuffles quickly across the sofa and hugs me.

"You didn't need all that sweetie, why didn't you just come straight here!" she says with a chuckle in attempt to cheer me up.

Quickly grabbing the champagne bottle she refills my glass and persuades me to drink up. I do and instantly start feeling a little better. When I start sniffling she hands me the box of tissues and giggles.

"What a mess ey?" I ask her as I look up gently dabbing at my tears. She just smiles at me and then hugs me again.

"Come on Carla, we need a stiffer drink than this!" she says and then quickly disappears back into the kitchen. Letting out a few deep breaths I await her return. Yes a few stiff drinks, what a fabulous idea. Suzy holds in her hand upon return a bottle of vodka and two tumblers. She unscrews the bottle and I can taste it in my mouth as I watch her pour. No sooner have I taken the glass from her, its contents are gone.

I feel that familiar burn in my throat and hand the glass out to her to pour another. At this rate the bottle will be empty before she's even had a glass! She quickly pours another and then grabs her glass.

"Cheers!" She exclaims clinking her glass against mine. I only smile and then raise the glass back to my lips. I take the clear liquid down in gulps. Firmly placing the glass back on the table I reach with a shaky hand for the bottle and pour another glass. It's a generous helping and plonking the bottle back down I leave the lid off. Grabbing my glass I through the vodka down my throat and this time the burn is all too familiar. My head is spinning as I grab the bottle once more and start pouring another glass slowly.

"Slow down there Carla" states Suzy in warning tone.

I don't take any notice and throw the glass up to my lips. I spill half the contents down myself as I misjudge how close I was to my lips. At that Suzy grabs the glass and the bottle and runs off. My eyes are heavy and my whole body aches as I slump back into the cushions. I close my eyes and groan at the pain my head is in.

When Suzy throws herself back down into the sofa it makes me bounce and I instantly feel sick. Groaning again I blink my teary eyes open and stare at her. She sits on her knees and is handing me what looks like a glass of water. I bat it away, unless it's vodka I refuse to drink it. I hear her set it down on the table and as she speaks I can hear the pity in her voice.

"Oh Carla, I had no idea things were this bad. I've never seen you like this"

She really does seem upset by my current state, but this is what I've been reduced to. This is the new Carla Connor, A drunken mess.


	110. Chapter 110

Peter and I have been here now in LA a few weeks. Suzy and I have spent a bit of time together but she has been busy working and I have had to spend the time with Peter. It's not been bad and I'm grateful of the time we've had together. It's allowed us time to talk and sort through a lot of our problems.

We are both happy and since that drunken night I spent alone at Suzy's I have learnt to appreciate Peter and how he helps me. That morning I had awoken at Suzy's feeling rough, really rough. I had definitely forgotten the impact alcohol could have on me. My head had been spinning and Suzy had been a rock the next morning, fixing me strong fresh coffee and a lovely continental breakfast. I couldn't eat it though and since that day I haven't eaten much at all, not that Peter has noticed. We have been getting along better but not well enough for him to notice I'm still not well.

The hotel is gorgeous a luxury room that Peter would never have been able to afford without the help of his doctor friend. I spend my time out soaking up the sun, topping up my tan that illuminates the beauty of my already olive skin. Peter and I don't spend the time together, we talked and agreed we needed to let each other breathe for a few days but it has turned into weeks. He sits in the room watching telly all day and I sunbathe. We are happy and that's all we need, LA is good for us.

The sun is hot as it burns into my skin, my thoughts still wandering I move on to thinking Peter is exceptionally quiet today. I can't help thinking that maybe I've done something to upset him. Peeling myself from the sun bed I decide that maybe I should spend some time with him, even if I do have to lie inside and watch him watch complete rubbish on the telly. At least I'll be making an effort.

I enter the room to find him sprawled on the bed snoring away. It's an opportunity to relax before he wakes so quietly I sneak into the bathroom and close the door as quietly as possible to avoid waking Peter. The bathroom in this hotel is beyond gorgeous. I turn the taps on and watch as the water thunders against the ceramic bathtub. Grabbing one of the complementary bottles of bubble bath I unscrew the cap and pour in a generous amount. The scents instantly fill the room as the mirrors steam up and the room becomes like a sauna. I unwrap my towel from my body and let it fall to the floor.

I bask in the heat as I peel off the bikini I bought when Peter sent me shopping with Suzy. It's been lovely to get some new clothes and replace some of my old ones that went missing on that boat at the beginning of the summer. It's black, so my typical style and it sets the nice golden glow of my skin off perfectly. Unfortunately it's time for it to come off. I peel it from my skin and chuck it to one side on to the tiled floor. I can't wait to slip beneath that water, get lost in the mass of bubbles and just have a good relax.

As I lie back and close my eyes, feeling the water wash over my body and make my skin tingle, I can't help thinking how wonderful it's been to have some normality and I haven't had a drink since that night at Suzy's. Peter and I have a bit of tension but we still love each other madly. I can see us settling here and being very, very happy in Californian bliss. If things carry on this way everything in the past will no longer matter. I haven't had any nightmares in weeks and I no longer seem to be bothered by the thought of Frank and what he did. It's the sunshine it does wonders for you!

I soak away until my fingertips and soles of my feet are wrinkled. I am enjoying my bath but it's definitely time to get out and I can't wait to get in that bedroom and spend some quality time with the man I am now certain more than I ever have been that I love. The water sloshes up the sides of the bath as I drag my soaked body from it and grab a clean towel from the rail. It's fluffy, soft and warm and I wrap it quickly around my body tucking it in at the top to hold it up. Releasing the plug I let the water out of the bathtub and head for the door.

Re-entering the bedroom I see Peter slumped over the desk. He looks busy but I can't help wondering doing what. I try sneaking across the room, so I can surprise him and take a sneak peak. I feel a little excited at my minds thoughts rushing ahead, he could be looking for a flat or maybe a job, and something that means I can, well we can stay here. A fresh start is going to do us a world of good.

He must sense me behind him because suddenly he turns and looks up at me. He looks terribly guilty and is quick to rise from the chair. He then smirks and tries to give me a cuddle but I push him away. My happy mood well and truly faded now as I cross my arms and stand firm, scowling at him.

"Peter, what is going on?" I ask firmly.

"Nothing Carla" he quickly answers in a defensive tone.

"What are you hiding from me Peter? I know we've been getting along great since we've been here but you're still a bit distant. Please tell me?" I almost beg as I reach out for his hand.

I take a firm grasp on it and squeeze tight, I just want us to be happy and whatever it is eating away at Peter I'm sure we can sort it together. I give him a reassuring smile and then watch as he sighs heavily and bows his head.

"I spoke to Simon on Skype the other day Car, he's in the Christmas play and everything, I promised him I'd be home to see it" he explains getting more and more emotional as he continues and I'm almost certain he is about to cry.

"What are you saying Peter?" I ask letting his hand slip from mine. Stupid question to ask really when I know the answer but it's already burst my happy little LA bubble.

"I wrote to Leanne, oh and Dad. Posted them the other day to say we'd be back. It's nearly Christmas Carla and I guess what I'm trying to say is…"

He stops and looks up at me, his eyes all teary and ready to burst. Nervously he shifts from foot to foot as he stares at me, clearly and making it blatantly obvious that he is trying to read my thoughts on the whole situation.

"What I'm trying to say baby is… I want to go home now"


	111. Chapter 111

_**A/N Well guys this is it the final adventure chapter. I would just like to say a huge thank you to you all for your support and wonderful, encouraging reviews. You have totally kept me motivated. Carla is back on our screens soon so YAY! and I really do hope you've all enjoyed her 'little' adventure. So finally enjoy the last little bit and hope it's not a disappointing end. Once again Thank You all so much. :) xx**_

I knew it was coming but I can't control my reaction. I'm so angry how dare Peter do this to me now, when I am happy and settled and finally beginning to feel like my old self again.

"HOME!" I yell at the top of my voice.

I'm fuming, why on earth would we need to go home. Peter is still shuffling awkwardly from one foot to another as he becomes increasingly nervous about how this is all going to play out. I can read him like a book and I know that he knows I am upset. He's seen me get settled here, return to my old self and finally begin to relax and enjoy life.

"Please Carla, it's Christmas and well Simon he is my son. I should be there" Peter pleads.

I soften slightly, I suppose he has a point but I don't want to go home. Weatherfield is not my type of place anymore, too many bad memories and ghosts. When I'm there I'm unlucky and miserable, Peter and I aren't exactly popular either, we are more like public enemy number one and I bet it's worse now Leanne and Nick are all loved up and playing happy families. But I can see from Peter's expression that he misses his son.

"Carla please" he begs again as he moves in to give me a cuddle.

I step back, I refuse to break down and give in to this silly request so easily. It is a silly request, just because he promised Simon he'd be there doesn't mean he has to be, after all Nick and Leanne will be there, his new substitute mummy and daddy. I secretly hope he is giving Nick as much crap and hostility as he did me though. I would love to see them falling out over that spoilt little brat just as Peter and I did so often.

The thought makes me smile but unfortunately I think Peter reads it as me giving in. He lets out a huge sigh of relief and looks at me with a most loving stare.

"Carla thank you" he says assuming this means I agree.

But I'm not sure he's read the signals just right. I haven't _actually _said yes and until I do I am staying firmly rooted in LA. I turn so I'm not facing him grab my clothes and head into the bathroom to get dressed, this is the perfect time to storm off and see Suz, she'll know what to do and its where I'll find unbiased advice. There is no point me trying to discuss my feelings on this with Peter until I have a concrete angle on what I'm trying to say. He is biased to going home because he suggested it and again everything will be his decision.

I decide to walk to Suzy's, it's only around the corner and it's a lovely warm evening. I really am not convinced that going home, just because it's Christmas is a good idea. Especially when the idea is Peter's. The last idea he had was this break, the adventure and look where that got us! Now we've managed to leave that in the past, all our bruising and illness is cleared up and gone away and we finally are having a much-needed break. Why does he always want to spoil everything?

Reaching Suzy's I press the buzzer but there doesn't appear to be any answer. I try a few more times before giving up. Feeling a little disheartened that my friend isn't available to help me figure this out I decide to walk around and try to organise my thoughts. Maybe if I think this through and get some fresh air I can make some sense of it all and compromise with Peter.

What a good idea? I think to myself as I wander around in the dim sunlight as evening approaches. I estimate I have been walking and pondering my thoughts for at least an hour if not more. I am finally starting to understand Peter's point and maybe we could just pop home. For a week, maybe two, see Simon's school thing, well Peter can anyway and it'd give me an opportunity to look in on Rob and Michelle. See if I still have a business or if they have successfully run it into the ground.

Stopping for a moment I take a seat on a bench that is conveniently located at the side of the path and looks out to sea. It's a breathtaking sight as the sun sets on the horizon. Shame I'll miss all this for a few weeks. Who on earth would chose dreary old Weatherfield over this gorgeous place. A few people are still milling about and would you believe it sun bathing in the last of the sunshine and I just sit still enjoying relaxing and letting my mind wander. I think about our future and how wonderful it would be to grow old with Peter here.

It's not long before I find myself sat in darkness, now watching twinkling stars. I was quite comfortable until this cold breeze hit me and that's when I decided to make a move back to the hotel. Walking along I offer up a silent prayer that Peter will accept my compromise. It's only fair and I still need this break more than ever. If I can get him to agree to even a further six months out here I will be happy. But my mind is made up firmly; I will not go back to that place and try to settle.

Reaching the hotel I head straight for our room. When I reach the door I frantically search my pockets but realise that in my haste to escape the awkward conversation and our room I forgot my key. Clenching my fist I tap on the door and hope Peter hasn't left. I'm in luck, the door clicks open and a very remorseful looking Peter stands to one side to let me in.

"Carla I…." He begins straight away, but I put my hand up to silence him.

"We can go home _but_ only on one condition." I stress

"Name it!" he offers enthusiastically

"We don't stay. Couple of weeks and then I want to come back here." I explain but don't say a word about my plans for LA to be my permanent residence.

"Ok baby" He agrees.

It was easier than I'd thought. I was expecting a row and had all the perfect lines conjured up in my head. Well at least he's agreed we can come back. That is progress enough. Yes a couple of weeks back in the dull British weather and then back to Californian bliss. That's me satisfied.

Peter has grabbed his bag and started packing and I guess I'd better do the same. He is throwing clothes in like he has a ticket already booked. I'm not rushing anything though, he can book the tickets online later and when he has a flight I'll pack but until then I intend to enjoy every last minute. I saunter casually to the bed and throw myself into its welcoming soft mattress and pillows.

"Carla" Peter says with a chuckle. "Come on you need to get packing!"

"Why?" I ask in sharp short tone.

"Because we leave in a few hours. I already have the tickets" He explains happily.

I feel my blood boiling but this is no time to argue, I've already agreed. I suppose I have to look at it positively. The sooner we leave the sooner we can come back! Yes that does the trick nicely. Forcing myself to get up off the bed I grab my bag and start packing.

Well here we go. Back to Weatherfield!


End file.
